


Endangered Species

by ArgentSleeper



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Magic Revealed, Multi, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 21:18:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1362094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentSleeper/pseuds/ArgentSleeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All sorcerers live in fear of the National Association Against Magical Creatures.  Their head agent, Arthur Pendragon, loves his job and believes firmly in his cause, dedicating his life to hunting down those with magic.</p><p>Merlin, however, has no life which to dedicate.  Declared dead by his mother at age three in a desperate attempt to save him from the law, he now has to find a new way to exist.</p><p>He believes he's doing well until the day his and Arthur's worlds collide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Endangered Species

**Author's Note:**

> First Reverse Big Bang is over! This was a monster to write. Thank you so much to matchboximpala for your amazing art and prompt, to my beta Rachel, and to my flatmate Naia for all the handholding and cheerleading. And a huge thanks to chosenfire28 for hosting the RBB!
> 
> Go check out matchboximpala's art here! http://www.livejournal.com/?returnto=http%3A%2F%2Fmatchboximpala.livejournal.com%2F145853.html&errmsg=notloggedin  
> I will embed it in the fic in a few days when I have laptop access instead of just mobile.

The day Uther Pendragon rose to power, the whole the nation rose up in celebration.  Even his opponents congratulated him wholeheartedly.

 

Standing at the window in his father’s new office, a very young Arthur marvelled at the joy the citizens showed.  There were parades and fireworks and several big parties –none of which Arthur was invited too, but the fact that _his_ father was important enough to be was enough to make him excited.  He got to move to new house and suddenly everyone wanted to be his friend.

 

And in the curious way that children have, Arthur recognized these wonderful changes that had occurred and wanted to know how to get more of them (he may have been angling for a pony, but that was between him and his toy soldiers for now).  Immensely proud of his father, Arthur sought only to emulate him.  He wanted to be the one people threw parades for one day.  But he needed to know how, first.  He would never forget his father’s answer.

 

“You see, son, when people are in distress, they look for someone to blame.  Once they have someone to blame, they wish for the transgressor to be punished.  The person who offers to do the punishing is the one who will earn their loyalty.  Like when you broke Morgana’s tea set, and she looked to her parents to discipline you.  By her mother doing so when her father turned a blind eye, Morgana’s loyalty and affection rose for her mother instead of her father.  There can be no more blind eyes, Arthur.

 

“We must curb the behaviour now so that our children grow up safe and strong, with all their freedoms unbroken.”

 

The next month, the laws against sorcery were created, and Merlin’s life as he knew it came to an end.

 

 

 

 

“Will, I’m going out for some milk, you want anything?”

 

A bedraggled head popped out from a doorway a moment later.  “Yeah, you to stop shouting.  Ugh, what do you even _need_ milk for at this time?”

 

Merlin rolled his eyes good-naturedly.  “It’s ten o’clock, Will.  Some of us want to have lunch later on.”

 

“And some of us just want to sleep until noon.  And since some of us have to work tonight, how ‘bout the rest of us bugger off?”

 

“Some of us are cranky in the morning,” Merlin teased, then ducked out of the flat before a pillow could be lobbed at him.

 

The corner market wasn’t that far away.  Merlin took his time limping down the sidewalk, picking carefully with his cane to avoid scuffing it and tripping.  He could have taken the tube to one of the larger supermarkets like Will always did, but he preferred the smaller shop, where the owners and employees all knew him.  And where if it was a particularly nice day he got free food, because they were convinced he didn’t eat enough.

 

It wasn’t his fault he never did the bulk of the shopping.  That was Will’s job.  Nine times out of ten Merlin only went out for milk or a loaf of bread.  Shopping tended to pose too many problems for him.

 

The shop was mostly empty when he got there, as it usually was.  Forridel was at the register.  Merlin sighed inwardly at the lost chance for spoiling.  For reasons beyond his comprehension, Forridel didn’t seem to like him all that much.  She always scowled at him when he came, watching him beadily as he scanned the aisles, as if she was just _waiting_ for him to steal something.

 

Merlin grabbed his milk without taking time to browse, eager to get away from her scrutiny.

 

“Just this?” she asked in her usual bored tone.  He nodded.  He ought to be grateful; her staring did wonders for his pocketbook.  “Paying with cash still?”

 

He could hear the distaste in her voice.  Merlin pushed down the little shiver that passed through his gut.  He knew his habits were becoming increasingly odd as the world progressed, and the last thing he needed was for someone to grow suspicious because of a little thing like this.  He nodded again and handed over the proper notes, making sure to use exact change.

 

“Just how much of that do you have left?”  Forridel’s eyes narrowed as she counted and put the payment in a small lock box.  “Or did you somehow convince your employers to not submit your pay to the bank?”

 

Merlin could feel his throat closing over and did his best to hide his discomfort.  “Inheritence.  From my grandfather.  He saved every coin he ever made.  Figure I need to spend it while I have the chance.”

 

That was another reason he avoided the big supermarkets.  They wouldn’t take paper money anymore.

 

Forridel scowled suspiciously, but even she couldn’t find fault in that.  Merlin snatched up his milk and fled.

 

Maybe it was time to find someone to get him a card.  The country had switched to the fully electronic system a few years after Uther Pendragon took power, as part of his program to be able to track citizens (for their _protection,_ of course).  Your card was your ID, your payment method, your medical records, everything.  Everyone got one at the age of twelve.  Everyone but Merlin that was.  Will had said before that he had a contact who would make him a fake one.  Merlin had turned down the offer, not wanting to turn to such dangerous methods if he could help it, but if even his favourite little shop was beginning to question him…

 

And if he had a card, he could get a job.  Could make his own money, support his mother. Could maybe use it to go to school.

 

But that was getting ahead of himself.  Merlin had learned long ago not to hope.  The other ‘h’ word, “hide,” was more his forte.

 

But sometimes he had to go places like the corner market, and then he would be reminded that he was living in a world that didn’t want him.

 

Well, not him exactly.  He had yet to find anyone who personally hated him –Forridel was just disgruntled in general.  But that was only because they didn’t know to.  In fact he was well tolerated by his neighbours.  They were the source of his income, giving him odd jobs fixing pipes, watching children, or even cooking meals for some of the older folk.  Paying him for his services in paper meant they didn’t have bother to find a terminal to transfer the funds.  If they didn’t have paper money, they would give him food, like a plate of cookies or even dishes of casserole –“For you poor little dears.”

 

If they knew who he really was, they wouldn’t even let him near them.

 

Returning the flat, Merlin tucked the milk into the refrigerator and retreated to his room to read.  He wasn’t that hungry anymore.  Will found him there a few hours later when he finally dragged himself from his bed.

 

“What happened to making lunch?  You’re so desperate for milk then you don’t even touch it?”  His friend took in his slumped state.  He sighed and came in to sit on the edge of the bed.  “What happened this time?”

 

Merlin shrugged noncommittally, not looking up from his book.  He’d only made it through a half dozen pages, his brain simply refusing to concentrate.  “Nothing.”

 

“Right.  You can’t fool me, mate.  I know your kicked puppy look when I see it.  So come on, what happened?”

 

He shrugged again.  “Just people being nosy.  It’s not a big deal.”  He didn’t need to give Will a reason to worry.  He was already risking everything just by letting Merlin stay here.

 

“What, is getting milk a crime now?” Will rolled his eyes, but then narrowed them quickly.  “It was Forridel, wasn’t it.  Honestly, Merlin, you need to stop going in there when she’s on shift.”

 

“She wanted to know why I didn’t use a card.”

 

“I told you, I can fix that!  One of my mates at work has a mate who deals in that stuff.  We’ll get you an I.D., then you can have your own pay card and you won’t have to worry about not being in the system.”

 

Merlin leapt off the bed, pacing back and forth in the small space.  “And what happens when the I.D. doesn’t work, huh?  I go from playing dead to being dead?  Watch you get hauled off to jail first?  What about my mother?  They’ll trace me back to her, and then she’ll be in a cell right next to you.  No thank you!  If it comes to it, I’ll leave, go back into hiding.  I’m not letting anyone get hurt for my sake.”

 

“Merlin, relax!”  Will grabbed him by the arm, halting his progress.  “It’s not going to come to that.  Hunith and I will be fine, and so will you.  We’ll just be more careful, alright?  I’ll do the shopping for now.  You just save your money.  The neighbours are going to run out of it eventually, and you might need it.”

 

He knew there was no point in arguing.  He hadn’t won an argument with Will in the last four years.  Nor did he point out that without the excuse of shopping, Merlin no longer had a reason to leave the flat by himself.  He was just as trapped as he’d always been.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Prince to Knight 2; Come in, Knight 2.”

 

“Knight 2 here.  Subject is stationary and relaxed.  He doesn’t seem to know we’re here.”

 

“He’s watching reruns of _Jamie Falls_.  I don’t know how he can possibly be relaxed.”

 

“I know, right?  Can you believe what happened last time with Amantha and Tevan?  It’s no wonder Tevan was poisoned.”

 

“Oh, who cares about them?  I just want to know if Tamberline is going to stay with Captain Rogers now that she knows she’s having his brother’s baby.”

 

“Ugh, Rogers doesn’t even deser–”

 

“ _Excuse me, ladies_.  If you don’t mind holding off your gossip for another time, we are _trying_ to do a job here.”

 

Arthur rolled his eyes at the antics of his team as they muttered apologies over the lines.  The fact that Lancelot and Gwaine watched cheesy soap operas was no surprise.  Percival, on the other hand– no, now he was getting off track.  The job.  He had to focus on the job.

 

“Knights 1 and 3, move in on my signal.  4 and 5, secure the fire escape.  2, let us know if he makes any movement.  We’re not letting this one get away.”

 

“Do we ever?”  Gwaine drawled back.  Arthur didn’t bother to reprimand him for his carefree comment.  He knew every one of his Knights took their jobs as seriously as he did.  That was why he’d picked them, and together they were the best squad the National Association Against Magical Creatures, NAAMC for short, had.

 

“On three we go.  No improv, Knight 3, I mean it.  1… 2… Now!”

 

With tactical precision Leon kicked in the door and the three men stormed the room, swarming the subject, an older man with a coarse white hair.  The subject didn’t even twitch as he was surrounded.

 

“Hello, my good men.  I see the time has finally come.”  He stood, and the team raised their weapons higher, glaring at him threateningly.  “Do not fear; I will not fight you.  This moment has been known to me since before you were even born.”

 

Gwaine snorted, “If you knew we were coming, why didn’t you run?”

 

“Because the future will come no matter what steps we take to prevent it.  We may change its path, but the destination will always stay the same.  My end is but the beginning for you, Arthur Pendragon.”

 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Arthur growled as Leon and Gwaine stepped a bit closer to him in anticipation of an attack.  No one was supposed to know his real last name.  There was a reason he used his mother’s.

 

The subject merely gave a small smile.  “The future is but known to a few, Arthur Pendragon.  I’m afraid you must go about things as the rest and discover it as it comes.”

 

“Unfortunately for you, you won’t get to see it.”  Arthur pulled the trigger and a tranquilizer dart buried itself in the subject’s chest.  The subject dropped to the ground.

 

Arthur sighed as his team moved into action, collecting the subject for transfer to the facility.  He shouldn’t have let that happen.  Why, he’d given the order himself time and time again: don’t hesitate; take the first shot you have.  Giving the subjects a chance to speak just gave them an opportunity to get the upper hand.  They couldn’t afford to take such risks, not out in the open where they had no defence.  He couldn’t afford to be the one to slip up.

 

“All loaded, Prince.  We need anything else?”

 

Arthur shook himself out of the self-deprecating thoughts.  “No.  We’ll let another team come and do a sweep later.  Let’s just get this one back to the base and processed.

 

The Knights piled into the van, Percival taking his place in the back with his tranquilizer propped up in case the subject started to stir.  The ride back to the base was made in tense silence as usual.  No matter how many times they did this it never took away the nerves that came from having a creature that could kill you with a few words sitting hardly a meter away.

 

Leon signed them back in while Gwaine and Percival took the subject down to processing.  From there another faction of the NAAMC would take over, dealing with the creature as they saw fit.

 

“Another success I see?”  Arthur and Lancelot turned to find Aredian, the head of their division, coming towards them.  Arthur immediately shoved down his disdain for the man who called himself the “Witch Finder.”  The training methods Aredian employed for his minions –Arthur was quite certain that was what he and the other teams were to the man– had been harsh, claiming he had to “expose them to the worst of what these creatures could do.”

 

The fact that he could replicate such circumstances without the use of magic was far from comforting.

 

“Subject detained, no injuries, no surprises.”  Other than that little cryptic warning, but there was no need to let Aredian in on that.

 

Aredian smiled thinly.  “Good, good.  In that case, I have another assignment for you.  All the pieces won’t be in place for another few days, however, so you and your team are on stand-by.  Report back in five days for a briefing.  You are dismissed.”

 

“Sir.”

 

“Why is it that every time he congratulates us, it feels like he’s disappointed we succeeded?” Lancelot muttered under his breath once Aredian was out of earshot.

 

“Because he is?” Arthur shrugged.  He’d known his boss –even thinking the word in the context of Aredian made him shudder– since he was old enough to be invited to his father’s business dinners.  “One more victory for us is one less personal victory for him.  If Aredian could, he’d hunt down every last subject himself and take over the rest of the NAAMC by himself.”

 

“And take all the fun away from us?”  Gwaine and Percival popped up, having made their way back.  “Don’t think I’m all that keen on retiring just yet, mate.  Sure, gives me a bit more time with the ladies, but they like a man who earns a living running dangerous.”

 

“Speak for yourself,” Lancelot muttered.  The others grinned at him.  They had all met his fiancé Gwen, who had no compunctions about telling all of them just how ridiculous she thought it was that they would insist on doing a job where they could be killed or maimed without a moment’s notice.  It was a fair bet poor Lancelot received the lecture every time he came home.

 

“No one’s taking our jobs away quite yet, gentlemen.  You heard the man.  Take a few days, relax, try not to come in too hungover on Thursday.”

 

“No promises, boss!”  Gwaine tossed him a lazy salute, then slung an arm over Percival’s shoulders –or as much as he could with the height difference.  “Come on, lads.  This one’s on me.”

 

 

 

 

“Merlin. Merlin, wake up.”

 

“Hng-wha?”  Merlin dug his face further into his pillow.  “Go ‘way, Will. Sleepin’.  Thought you liked sleep.”  He was also fairly sure that if Will was home and awake, it had to be the wee hours of the morning, yet it still looked pitch dark out.

 

“This is serious, Merlin.  Maybe sandbox serious.  They took Taliesan.”

 

Merlin rolled over and sat up so quickly he nearly bashed in Will’s nose.  “No…” he breathed, his heart beating so quickly he thought he might turn into a hummingbird and fly away.  “Please, I didn’t mean it before, I don’t want to–”

 

“Calm down now, I didn’t mean it like that.  I said maybe.  Code Mouse, definitely.  We need to move, now.”

 

Merlin jumped out of his bed and began shucking off his nightclothes, heedless of Will’s continued presence.  He didn’t have to do much.  He kept everything he owned in a duffle in the closet.  Just needed to grab his toothbrush, perhaps a bit of food.  Will had just bought some apples the other day, those would keep for a while–

 

“We have to do this careful,” Will was saying, watching the proceedings with sad eyes, but his voice was determined.  “They’ll be back, they never leave a place untouched.  Probably nick Taliesan’s stuff, the stuff they don’t think is cursed, anyway.  If you leave now, you can be long gone by the time the goons get here.  I’ll tell the landlord in the morning we’re moving, don’t want to be in a place that’s infested with that kind of vermin, after all.  I’ll meet you at the back-up flat by nightfall, okay?”

 

Merlin paused in his scurried movements to shove his nightclothes in his bag.  “Will, no.  You don’t have to do this.  You stay, I don’t want to–”

 

Will just rested a hand on his shoulder, the grip so tight it was almost painful.  “Mouse, Merlin.  Mouse means you lie low.  You can’t lie low and feed yourself.  You need me, mate.”  Will hefted up the duffel and handed it to him.  “I knew what I was getting into here, Merlin.  Don’t make me regret it by getting all noble on me.”

 

Merlin tried to grin but only managed a little twist of his mouth.  “We both know how you hate the posh types.”

 

Will groaned and rolled his eyes, then shoved Merlin’s cane in his face.  “That lot are anything but noble.  Now get on with you.  I expect to see you at the flat by sunset.”

 

Merlin ran.

 

 

 

 

 

They had never been under any illusions this would be easy.  Even if they ever had, those illusions would have been shattered by now.  This was the sixth flat in four years they’d had to abandon.  Sometimes it was ID checks, sometimes one of the other residents got taken in, and Merlin lived in fear of the time it would be because they were coming for him.

 

_Merlin was just three years old when his mother called him in from the sandbox he’d been playing in with Will.  He never left the house again for the next fifteen years.  It wasn’t until he was eight that he found out why: he’d been officially declared dead. According to all government agencies, he no longer existed.  It wasn’t safe for him to exist.  Because he was magic, and magic was outlawed._

_“I’m sorry, Mummy!” he’d cried.  “I didn’t mean to be bad!  I won’t do it again!”  It was a lie, and he knew it. He couldn’t help it; he could never help it.  Why, he was levitating his toys since he was born.  That’s why he had to hide, to prevent accidents._

_“Oh, baby.  You weren’t bad,” Hunith had held him close.  Later he’d realize she was crying.  “You’re not bad, I promise.  And one day people are going to realize that.  But until then you just need to stay my little mouse.”_

_Being a little mouse had entailed never going near the windows, hiding whenever someone came to the door, staying completely quiet on the rare occasion someone came over for dinner._

 

He knew now that those fifteen years had taken their toll on his mother, who could never date again despite being –in Merlin’s opinion anyway– still rather pretty, who could never brag about her child like all of the other parents.  He could definitely appreciate how she must have felt, must still feel, lying to everyone around her.  The terror of being discovered.  It was why he’d had to go, even if it broke her heart.

 

He and Will had come up with their warning system before Hunith would even think to allow him to leave.  They had code words and back-up plans and back-up back-up plans.

 

“Gone to work” was an ID check.  Merlin never answered the door; he always made sure he was in another room if someone knocked.  If Will answered the door and they asked for IDs, he would make a big fuss about getting his from his wallet, explaining that yes, he had a roommate –it would have been too dangerous to say otherwise, not when the entire building could reveal the lie– but he was gone to work and not expected back until later.  Then that night Merlin would slip out and spend the night wherever he could find, and Will would find them a new place to live.

 

Tonight’s code was “Mouse.”  Usually it happened when someone got suspicious of Merlin’s unemployment or affinity for cash or someone in the building was arrested for sorcery.  It meant “get out; lie low; don’t attract attention.”  It was always more heart-pounding then the other.  At least if it had been a simple ID check Merlin could claim a fight with Will and go stay with Freya.  She would always take him in.  But he didn’t dare bring such danger to her when there was a raid.  There was no telling what kind of finger-pointing would go on when the other building residents were shaken and afraid.  Instead he would huddle up in a back alley and not sleep for days.

 

They hadn’t yet had to use their top security code word.  Sandbox.  Sandbox meant the game was up, and Merlin had to die again.

 

He wasn’t sure if that would kill him more or Will.

 

_Merlin begged every day to get to go see Will.  Will was a whole three years older, and that made him practically a superhero in Merlin’s books.  Why the older boy would put up with him he never knew, but the fact that he did meant he worshipped Will more than his own mother.  Merlin never cried as hard as when Hunith told him he couldn’t ever see his friend again._

_Will never admitted to it, but later Merlin found out Will cried too._

 

_It was when Merlin was eighteen that everything changed.  It hadn’t been his fault –okay, it was, but he would never tell Hunith that; she felt terrible enough as it was.  He’d just wanted one peek out the window to see what was happening next door.  Will still lived there.  His mother kept him updated, even got yearly pictures from Will’s mum, so Merlin knew his old friend had just come home for his twenty-first birthday.  The yard was filled with a spattering of people, standing around eating cake and chatting.  Merlin searched the scene until he found Will.  The boy –now a young man, when did that happen?– looked happy, laughing with a group of people he probably had gone to school with, people Merlin might have once known too._

_Merlin wondered what they were laughing about.  Wondered if he would even get the joke after all this time cut off from the world._

_It happened in a split second.  Will’s eyes connected with his, both sets widening in surprise, Will’s laughter falling away sharply.  His plate of cake tumbled to the ground.  Merlin stumbled away from the window, letting the thick curtain fall back into place, but the damage was done._

_Will came by that night._

 

_“Where is he?”_

_“Where’s who, dear? Did Matthew run away again?  Perhaps you should look into getting a metal chain so he’ll stop chewing through the leash.”_

_“Merlin.  Where’s Merlin?”_

_Silence stretched taut between them.  Merlin listened through the door of the bathroom, where he’d run when the doorbell went off.  This was his fault, this was all his fault.  They were going to take him away and his mother, too, and all because he couldn’t be a good little mouse._

_The whispered reply finally came.  “Merlin’s not here, Will.  He died, a long time ago.  You know that.”_

_“I **saw** him.  I know I did.  He was in the window.”_

_“That was just me, de–”_

_“You weren’t here.  I know what I saw.  I’ve seen before, too, I think, just shadows, but this time I’m sure.  It was him.”_

_“Will…” Merlin had never heard his mother so frightened before, but he recognised the signs in her voice, the way it went all quiet and calm, like her enemy was a wild animal she had to fight not to spook.  “Will, do you understand what you’re saying?  The consequences of what you’re insinuating?”_

_More silence.  “I do.  Please let me see him.  Merlin was my friend.  I wouldn’t hurt him.”_

_“…Come in.”_

 

Merlin went to the pub.  Ironic as it was the safest place he and Will could come up with, plenty of people for Merlin to blend in with.  No one suspected the young man sitting on the bar stool next to you of being a sorcerer.  The pub also readily accepted cash, fearing ID’s would be easily stolen off the inebriated, and he was plenty old enough not to be age checked.

 

Merlin liked the pub for a different reason.  He could drink and forget.  All the experts would probably yell that that was a terrible plan, that his problems would still be there in the morning, but they’d been there for twenty-two years.  He deserved a night off now and then.

 

His first pint disappeared quickly, as did half the second.  He paced himself after that.  Merlin needed to be allowed to stay here until closing at least so that he only had a few hours out on the streets.  The last thing he wanted was the bartender to refuse to serve him anymore or to get so sloshed he got in trouble and was kicked out.

 

He tended to get sloshed a bit easily.

 

The place was crowded, though not overly so given the hour.  A handful of groups milled about, as well as a few solitary people like himself.  But it was a weeknight –was it? Merlin never was able to keep track of that kind of thing, but it _felt_ like a weeknight –so most anyone who _had_ been there had likely left early.

 

“Hey, mate, why you looking so glum?”

 

Merlin startled and nearly fell off his stool.  The shaggy-haired man who had materialized beside him grabbed him by the arm to keep him upright.  Of course the touch sent off even more alarms as instinct told him to _get away get away getaway_ , but somehow he managed to get a hold of himself before he hyperventilated.

 

“Woah, there.  You know it’s a Sunday, right?  Sure it’s a day of rest and all, but tomorrow isn’t.  You want I should help you get home so you’re not dead hungover in the morning?”

 

“Don’t work,” Merlin answered automatically.  He pointed to his cane in explanation.  The stick, stolen by Will from his work, provided him an excellent cover for his lack of job.  The remembering to limp everywhere was a bit taxing at times, but no one wanted to question a cripple.

 

“Ah, well, still.  Nobody should drink alone.  Why don’t you join my mates and I?”

 

Merlin turned in the direction he indicated, spotting a booth surrounded by probably the largest group of people in the place.  They were laughing boisterously at something.  One of them was glancing over at the bar.  He made eye contact with Merlin for a moment, his piercing blue gaze making him shiver slightly, despite the lack of any actual threat.

 

“What are you lot doing here, then?  I’m sure at least one of you _does_ have to work tomorrow.”

 

“Nope,” the shaggy man beamed.  “Got the day off for being fabulous.”

 

“Hey, Gwaine!” came the shout.  “Stop flirting and bring me my drink!”  Various cat calls and agreements followed.

 

“Yer all just jealous I found someone to flirt with and you didn’t!” he hollered back.  The man –Gwaine –turned back to him with a grin.  “Hope you don’t mind.  Can’t let them think they’ve won.”

 

“Of course not,” he said automatically.  “T’would be a sorry shame.”

 

Gwaine picked up four of the pints that had been set on the counter in front of him.  “Grab the rest?”  Then he sauntered away, clearly expecting Merlin to follow.

 

Well, what could he say to that?  He knew what he _should_ say: so long, farewell.  But Gwaine was just being friendly.  Turning him down would be rude.  While Merlin hadn’t really had much opportunity to practice, his mother had drilled in the rules of politeness on the chance he might one day be free.

 

So that’s how Merlin found himself approaching a table filled with strangers, loaded down with two drinks (he’d had to leave his own behind to have a hand left for the cane).  There were six of them, all looking terrifyingly huge and fit.  Well, maybe that was just his perception.  Gwaine wasn’t all that big, more wiry, and the darker man with the close cropped hair looked more stocky than tall.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

 

Gwaine shoved in by a tanned man with brown hair as wavy as his own, though not nearly as long.  “Budge up.  Make room for my conquest.”

 

Merlin blushed hotly at the label, but settled in on the seat provided.  Gwaine went around introducing his friends.  The tan one to his right was Lancelot, then the stocky one was Elyan.  Percival actually _was_ a giant, and Leon had a mane that made Merlin wonder if sometimes people called him Lion instead.  Then there was the man with the blond hair and piercing eyes who’d been looking at him before.  His name was Arthur.

 

He was the one who spoke up first after the others were done ribbing the two for their supposed “connection.”  “I noticed,” Arthur drawled, “that you haven’t yet bothered to give us your dear sweetheart’s name.  Are we to believe he doesn’t have one or did you not ask?”

 

It was Gwaine’s turn to blush, though he looked completely unapologetic about the whole affair.  He started to grumble, “Well, I was _going_ to…” then Merlin stepped in to save him.  “I’m Merlin.  No, he didn’t ask.  I’m sure he would have gotten around to it eventually, but we were too busy discussing his place or mine.”

 

Gwaine choked on his drink, spewing it over the table.  The others howled at his expense as Gwaine sputtered and coughed, his eyes bugging out as he fought to breath around his laughter.

 

Arthur just raised an eyebrow dubiously.  “And I see he doesn’t even need a drink to ply you into bed.  Though perhaps the aim was the other way around?”  He nodded at the two pints Gwaine had in front of him, having stolen Lancelot’s.

 

“Aw, come on, Arthur, be nice–” Lancelot protested, but Gwaine interrupted.

 

“Bloody hell!  I’m so sorry, mate, I forgot!  Here, take mine.”  By his he meant Lancelot’s.  “I’ll go get the other one, just give me a minute.”

 

“It’s fine,” Merlin muttered, ducking his chin.  He hated it when people pitied him for his leg when it wasn’t even actually injured.

 

“Really, I think he’s just cementing my point: he doesn’t deserve you.”

 

Merlin raised his gaze slightly to meet Arthur’s unimpressed one.  “Well, in that case I’ll just be going then.”

 

“Now you’ve scared him off, princess!  He’s sorry, Merlin.  Arthur, tell him you’re sorry.”

 

Arthur looked unapologetic, but Merlin didn’t mind.  He was starting to get the measure of the man.  “Princess?  That’s very… nice.  How’d you get that one?”

 

 _Now_ the blond looked a bit embarrassed.  The rest chuckled at his discomfort.  “He’s sort of the leader of our little group,” Leon explained.  “So Gwaine likes to remind him of his place of authority in his own _special_ way.”

 

“He likes to annoy me is what it is,” Arthur grumbled.

 

“What’s so wrong with being a princess?  My mum used to tell me that little girls always wanted to be princesses when they grew up, while boys always wanted to be king was an example of how society teaches boys to grow up and take on responsibility while girls are being taught to like pretty things and be pampered.  But princesses have just as many duties as a prince has, at least if the kingdom isn’t a horribly sexist regime.  So really he’s not insulting you at all.  Not unless you consider being a girl an insult, which just makes you a prat.”

 

They all just stared while Gwaine looked torn between amusement and offence (leaning heavily towards amusement) and Arthur seemed oddly morose about the whole thing.  “Can we keep him?” Lancelot asked, grinning broadly.  “Gwen would _love_ him.”

 

“He’s not a stray puppy.”  Arthur snapped rather more waspishly than before.  “You can’t just take him home and lay out some newspaper.”

 

“Why don’t we ask him?  Merlin, would you like to come home with me and entertain Gwen?”

 

Merlin didn’t know who Gwen was, but there was no way he was saying yes to that, especially when Arthur was starting to look more annoyed by his presence than amused.  He was preparing to come up with an excuse to bolt when his phone vibrated.

 

**From: Will**

_go 2 Freys dont argue just do it_

 

Merlin wanted nothing more than _to_ argue.  There was no way he was going to put Freya in danger.  He was surprised Will was willing to even suggest it.  But the message at least gave Merlin an excuse to get out of there.

 

“Sorry, I’ve gotta go,” he said, scrambling to his feet and snatching up his cane.  “That was my flatmate.  He needs me for… stuff.”

 

“Right…” Arthur replied dubiously.  The others chimed in with a mixture of farewells and pleas to stay a bit longer.

 

“It was nice meeting you all.  Perhaps we’ll run into each other again sometime?”  _Hopefully not_.

 

“Perhaps we will,” Arthur echoed cryptically.

 

Merlin hobbled away as quickly as he could, just barely remembering to limp.  He could feel the eyes of the blond on him all the way out of the building.

 

He had just made it around the block and stopped to rest when the next text came in.

 

**From: Will**

_i kno ur not going do it now Frey will call me if u dont_

Merlin groaned.  He had no doubt Freya would, and then Will would come out looking for him.  Already he seemed to have gone AWOL from his shift at work.  He didn’t need to get himself arrested, too.

 

So Merlin trekked through the streets to Freya’s flat.  It wasn’t far from the pub, luckily, because it wasn’t like he could just get a bus at this time of night.  He could see her lights on through the window shades.  For a moment Merlin wondered if she, too, had been woken up out of a sound sleep.

 

He doubted it.  Freya hadn’t had a sound sleep in years.

 

Merlin barely had a chance to raise his fist and knock when Freya opened the door and tugged him in.  She enveloped him in a tight hug.  "Will called.  Don’t worry, you’re safe here.  It’s not as if they’re even looking for you.  It’s just a precaution.  I’m going to look out for you, okay?”

 

Merlin just nodded.  She said the same thing every time he showed up at her door.  He supposed he should just be grateful she was brave enough to take him in and not make him sleep on the street.  But then, she’d been living in her flat for nearly six years without ever once having to flee.  And Merlin would know if she was just not being careful.  Will would have had her head if Freya did anything reckless like that.

 

The relationship between Will and Freya was one Merlin had yet to understand.  They had met on the tube one day about five years ago and been inseparable since.  When Will introduced them, Merlin knew immediately that she had magic.  Yet she was fearlessly doing everything Merlin had never considered: working, going to clubs, graduating uni, _dating_.  After three months, when he admitted he knew about her magic and it was okay because he had it too, she had been ecstatic.

 

Oddly, Will had been as well.  Freya had had to lie to him the entire time they were together thus far, but once she knew how he had protected Merlin, she was able to tell him the truth.  At first Will’s fear had doubled upon finding out that he had not one but two loved ones in danger of arrest, but Freya had squashed any outward sign of concern.  She had been living in freedom for this long, and she was going to continue for a very long time to come, thank you very much.

 

Of course, she wasn’t like Merlin.  She had never had to completely hide before.  She was in complete control of her magic from the start.

 

“I know you don’t want to be here, and I appreciate your concern, but think of it this way: if we have to run, we can run together.”

 

Merlin hugged her tighter as neither of them spoke about what that implied.

 

Because leaving Will behind would always be their only option.

 

 

 

 

 

Merlin spent the next day on Freya’s couch watching telly and eating his way through tub of ice cream with his good friends Ben and Jerry.  Freya would have stayed with him, but she had to go in to work.

 

“Gotta save my sick days.  Sorry, love.  But make yourself at home as always.”

 

He was just fine with entertaining himself.  He’d had to do so the entire time he was hidden in his house, after all.  His mother tried, but not even Hunith could be with him 24/7, especially not with working two jobs to keep them afloat.

 

Merlin kept his phone right next to him waiting for Will’s text about where they were to live next.  How his friend found so many new places so quickly was beyond him.  Merlin had never had to spend more than a night out on the street or at Freya’s.  He knew Will had a connection with the underground magic league, but it still amazed him every time.

 

Merlin himself refused to have anything to do with the league.  He knew they had been responsible for the deaths of several higher ups in the government.  It never helped their cause.  Each tragedy only resulted in stricter laws and more raids.  At least Will made a point of never bringing Merlin up when he spoke to his contacts.  So far as they knew, he was just a random normal person ally who had lost a friend to a raid.  They didn’t even know about Freya.  His own lack of magic meant they trusted him less, but they hadn’t steered him wrong yet.

 

The text never came.  As the day wore on Merlin became more and more nervous, but Will had never let him down before.  Unfortunately, that could mean something worse had happened.  Perhaps when the officials came to clear out Taliesan’s flat, someone mentioned them, and Will had been arrested.  Or he could have simply been being Will and said something to offend them.  Or he could have been hit by a bus.

 

That way lay madness.  He had to believe that Will was simply waiting until evening.  That was when Merlin was supposed to meet him after all.  Maybe it was a place near Freya’s.  That would be nice.  Maybe he could visit her more often for non-dire reasons.

 

A knock at the door just before sunset startled him.  Freya wasn’t back yet, so there was no one to answer the door.  The neighbours knew Will, but there was no reason for him to be skulking around without Freya there.  If it was an ID check, they would have him in a minute.  No, he had to just stay quiet and hope they went away.

 

“It’s me!  Open the door!”

 

He let out a sigh of relief.  Will barrelled through as soon as the latch was unhooked.  “Good, Frey’s not here.  I was hoping to get to you while she wasn’t around to hear the yelling.”

 

“Yelling?”  Merlin tensed.  That wasn’t the worst thing he’d heard in the last twenty-four hours, but it certainly wasn’t the best.  “Why is there going to be yelling, Will?”

 

“Oh, you know, I just figure you’ll be upset when I tell you that we’re living here now.”

 

“We’re _what_?”

           

“Relax.  Not _here_ , here.  I wouldn’t make Freya shack up with you.  I meant in this building.  There’s an open flat on the floor above.  I got us in.”

 

“No.  Absolutely not.  I’m not doing that to–”

 

“Will you just calm down, Mer?  You know, you’re not the only one who cares about people.  If this was going to be risky for either Frey or you, I’d’ve turned her suggestion down in a heartbeat.  But this is a safe place, I swear.”

 

“Right.  Safe.”  Merlin hadn’t known true safety since he was three.

 

“I’m serious.  This place is known by the underground as a safe haven for your kind.  Never been raided in the last decade.  You haven’t noticed the odd amount of people like you living here?”

 

He’d noticed they were here, but it wasn’t like every building didn’t have at least one or two sorcerers hiding within its walls.  Why, in their last building there had been him and Taliesan, and then the Collins, a mother and son pair, besides.

 

“But wait.”  He wasn’t going down without a fight.  “If this place is so famous, doesn’t that make it less safe?”  If normal Will could find out about it, then so could the government.

 

“Did you not hear me?  I said _ten years_.  If they were going to crack down on this place, they would have done it.  I’m not saying no one knows, but something has been keeping them from it.”

 

“You make it sound like a ticking time bomb!  Why would you want us to live in a bomb?  Why would you let Freya?”

 

Will crossed his arms, expression as serious as Merlin had ever seen it.  “Freya made that choice on her own.  I’d like to see anyone tell her what to do.  You have a choice here too.  I’m not going to make you stay.  But I’m telling you, I think this is a good place for us.  For you.  I would never knowingly put you in danger, Mer, you know that.”

 

Merlin sighed.  He did know that.  It was the unknown danger that bothered him.  But what other option did he have but to trust him?  Will had taken care of him this long, and he would continue to do so for as long as he could.  “Fine.  We’ll stay.  But we need a better back-up for next time.”

 

The was no point in pretending there would be no next time.  Sometimes you had to lower your expectations to avoid disappointment.

 

“There’s one other thing about living here,” Will continued.

 

Merlin groaned.  Of course there was more.  “Why do I feel like I need to run already?”

 

“Because you’re a big baby.  You have to get out once in a while.  Meet people.  Make friends.  Go places other than to the market to get milk.”

 

“What?”  Merlin squawked.  “Are you actually _trying_ to get me killed?”

 

“I’m _trying_ to get you to _live_.  You were in hiding for fifteen years, and despite the fact people other than your mum now know you exist, you’re still hiding.  The whole point of doing this was for you to have a normal life, mate.  Staying inside all day and only talking to the neighbours when you absolutely have to isn’t normal.  Being a recluse in the city draws attention.  Come to the club with me and Freya.  Or the café.  Meet some of my work friends.  Hang out with the neighbours.  Just walk up to someone on the street and say ‘hi’ for crying out loud.  If you’re not going to even try to have a life, you might as well go back to hiding in your closet.”

 

He had a point.  Merlin knew he had a point.  That didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

 

“I don’t mean you should just go around making nice with everyone.  But there are some good people out there.  We’ll start small, I promise.  There’s this guy I know from work.  Rumour has it he’s one of your kind.  I’m not stupid enough to ask of course, but my sources are usually right about this stuff.  Maybe you’ll find each other out, like you did with Freya.  Just one person, Mer, that’s all I’m asking.”

 

Merlin wanted to protest.  Freya was different.  Will had already been dating her _long_ before she and Merlin were ever introduced.  Will trusted Freya with his life, and more importantly, Merlin’s.  Whoever this co-worker was, Will probably couldn’t trust him not to nick his sandwich from the staff fridge.  But Merlin knew when he was beaten. 

 

“Ask him and let me know when,” he sighed.  “Or just drag me out.  Not like I have any other plans.”

 

“Exactly my point.  This’ll be good for you, mate.  I promise.

 

“Right.  Sure it will.”

 

Merlin flopped down on the couch.  There was no way this could end well.

 

 

 

“Mer, this is Daegal.  Daegal, this is Merlin.  Be friends.”  Will clapped them both on the back and skipped off to join Freya at the bar.

 

“Pushy, ain’t ‘e?”

 

Merlin chuckled nervously.  “Yeah, he certainly can be.  Just be glad you don’t live with him.  Then he really thinks he can boss you around.”  He could do this.  He talked to people.  He did.  Not by choice or anything, but it happened.

 

“It must be nice to have a flatmate, though,” Daegal protested.  “I’m all by myself ever since me mum and dad died.  I just have my sister now.”

 

They continued on chatting about family and living experiences.  Merlin simply said his parents were dead as well.  Yes, Daegal had magic just as Will suspected, but there was no way Merlin was chancing his mother ever being connected with him.  He didn’t expect to be spending much time with Daegal outside this –the man was rather dull, if enthusiastic in his dullness– but it could never hurt to be too careful.

 

That was the motto Merlin lived his life by.

 

It was when Daegal moved into talking about his plant collection that Merlin checked out.  Who even collected plants?  He began to look around for Will and Freya, but they were now conspiciously missing from the bar.  _Traitors_.  Maybe he could feign an illness.  Mentioning a growing pain in his leg had always managed to get him away from nosy neighbours.  He might feel a bit bad about it –Daegal was boring, but he didn’t seem to be a bad person –but he’d agreed to be sociable, not a saint.

 

He was ready to bolt no matter what Will might say to him later when an arm slung around his shoulders.  “Hey, mate!  Long time no see!”

 

Once again Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin –what was it about people and sneaking up on him?– but he managed to hold it together long enough to whirl around.  He found himself staring at the blond bloke from the other night.  “A-Arthur?”  The man winked at him.  “Ehm… hi?  Yeah, ehm, right… it’s been a while?”

 

“Come say hello; Gwen’s been dying to see you again.”  Arthur gripped him by the arm and started tugging him away.  “You don’t mind if I steal him away for a moment, do you?  The missus gets what the missus wants, you know?  I’ll have him back in a tick!”

 

Merlin giggled giddily as they made their escape.  “If I ever say a bad word about you being a clotpole again, remind me about the time you saved my life.”

 

Arthur slapped a hand to his chest in mock affront.  “You’ve been impugning my honour?  See if I ever save you again!”  Merlin’s cheerfulness faded a bit at the accusation.  It was true, he hadn’t been very nice to Arthur the other night.  To be fair, the man had been acting like a prat, but Merlin wasn’t in a position where he should be going around antagonizing people.

 

Arthur seemed to sense his discomfort.  He waved a hand in dismissal.  “Don’t worry about it.  I’ve heard worse from the guys.  Besides, you looked like such a sad pleading puppy there looking for rescue, I probably would have done it even if you’d been my worst enemy.  But really, Merlin?  Clot _pole_?  What does that even mean?”

 

“In a word?  Arthur.”

 

He’d expected another retort, but Arthur simply threw his head back and laughed.  “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

 

“This what?”

 

“You know, the whole getting to know you thing.  Am I to put up with an insult every time I try to do something nice?”

 

“Probably.”  Merlin finally glanced Freya and Will making out in a corner.  He made a move to shrug out from under Arthur’s arm.  The contact was giving him a strange tingling feeling that, while far from unpleasant, raised questions he wasn’t sure how to answer.  “Look, I appreciate the rescue, but I should probably be –”

 

“You can’t go!”  He looked legitimately disappointed.  “I was serious about Gwen wanting to meet you.  She’s over at the table.  Lancelot and I have been telling her all about you ever since we spotted you with What’s-His-Name.”

 

“All about me?  You don’t even know me.”  _And that’s the way it’s going to stay._

 

Arthur sighed.  “Yes, and I’m trying to change that.  That’s the whole point of this, _Mer_ lin.  Did you think I warned you away from Gwaine just to make him mad?”

 

Merlin wasn’t exactly sure what he’d done was “warning him away from Gwaine” –not that he’d needed warning –but he did remember Arthur’s last words on that matter: “ _He doesn’t deserve you._ ”  He supposed that was meant to be kind.

 

“Look, just come meet Gwen.  You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.  Please?”

 

He looked so pleading Merlin couldn’t help but say yes.  It was either that or go break up Will and Freya’s love fest and demand to leave.  Will had taken the keys to the flat so that Merlin couldn’t run away when he wasn’t looking.  Maybe he needed to take Will’s advice for once.  The world hadn’t imploded the last time he talked to Arthur and his friends, had it?  He just had to watch his mouth a bit better.

 

Arthur led him over to a small table where Lancelot waited with a woman with dark curls shorn off at the shoulder.  She beamed at him when he sat down, feeling awkwardly out of place.

 

“You must be Merlin!  I’ve heard a lot about you.  All good!  I wasn’t implying that they’d said anything bad about you.  I’m sure you’re a very nice person.”

 

Merlin decided he liked Gwen.  He smiled back reassuringly to still her babble.  “And I’ve heard nothing about you, but I’m sure you’re a very nice person too.”

 

“Who was that you were with, Merlin?”  Lancelot asked, gesturing over to where Daegal looked a bit lost and confused now that he had no one to talk to.  “I hope we didn’t pull you away from anything important.”

 

He shrugged.  “Just someone my mate works with.  He thought we’d get along.”  Merlin grimaced.  “I’m not saying we didn’t, but well… not my type.”

 

Arthur leaned closer.  “Just what is your type, _Mer_ lin?”

 

“Ehm, I mean, we’re just friends– I mean, not friends– Will wanted us to be friends, but we’re, ehm, not?”

 

“Thank you for clearing that up.”  Arthur rolled his eyes.  “Any particular reason you’re going on blind dates with ‘not friends’?”

 

Merlin shrank in his seat.  He didn’t like this whole questioning thing.  What was the normal person thing to say?  “He –my mate, that is– thinks I need to get out more?”

 

“That’s twice I’ve seen you in a week.  Just how out does your mate think you ought to be?”  Arthur gaze seemed to bore into him.

 

“Stop interrogating him, Arthur,” Gwen insisted, swatting him playfully on the arm.  “He’s just trying to have a nice night out like the rest of us.”

Arthur looked abashed.  “Sorry.  I didn’t mean it like that.”

 

“It’s fine,” Merlin mumbled.  It wasn’t, but it was probably supposed to be fine.”

 

“Hey, Mer!”  Will approached the table, and Merlin looked up at him, grateful for the interruption.  “We’re headed back to the flat.  You coming with or did you want to stay a bit longer?”

 

Will’s face was an odd combination of fearful nerves and pleasure.  Merlin couldn’t hope to interpret its meaning, so carefully he replied, “I’m not sure.  Did you need me for anything?”  There, that put the ball in Will’s court.  If he didn’t want him getting close to a stranger, then he could order Merlin home.  Granted, he’d been the one to suggest the whole “say hi to a stranger” thing in the first place, so he was probably thrilled at Merlin’s initiative to seek out friends on his own.

 

Arthur, on the other hand, was looking almost depressed at the thought that Merlin might be leaving.  “I can give you a lift if you need.  It’s not a problem.”

 

“I can walk,” Merlin countered automatically.

 

“You live nearby?”

 

“He means he can walk to the station, don’t you, Merlin?”  Will interrupted.  “The bus runs right by our place at 26 Harmony Lane.”

 

That was the address of one of their old places.  They’d had to leave that one because of a raid, too.  “Right.  I’ll meet you back there in a bit, yeah?”

 

“Fine.  But if you take too long I’m not waiting up for you.”  Translation: _If you don’t show up by midnight I’m coming after you._

 

“I’ll be back, don’t worry.  Probably won’t stay out too much longer.”

 

“Whatever.  Bye, mate.”  With a last glance over his shoulder Will left, one arm slung possessively –or perhaps protectively– around Freya, who joined him by the door.

 

“Your mate’s… interesting.”

 

Merlin forced a smile and a shrug.  “He’s just protective.  He’s kinda like my big brother.  He looks out for me.”

 

“You sure you don’t want a lift home?  I really don’t mind giving you one.”

 

“It’s fine, really.  I don’t mind walking.”

 

“I insist.  It’s getting late; no one should be out alone.”

 

The topic was dropped, much to Merlin’s relief.  He’d protest later, maybe shake Arthur off at the bus stop and make an escape once he was out of eyesight.  Instead the conversation turned to Gwen telling him about her seamstress business, including tales of “her boys” getting themselves into trouble whenever they dropped by to help her out.  Apparently they’d managed to tangle thread, bleach fabric, and, on one memorable occasion, take the heads off two different mannequins.

 

“I swear, I don’t know how they’ve managed so far being all thumbs.  I’ve hired a girl for help, but I’m going to need more soon with the rate business is growing.  You wouldn’t happened to have any skill with a needle and thread, would you, Merlin?”

 

He gaped.  “You don’t even know me.”  Just the same as he’d said to Arthur.  “Yet you’re offering me a job after what, an hour of meeting me?  I could be a serial killer for all you know.”  _Or a sorcerer._

 

“I know you’ve got friends who care about you, which means you can’t be that terrible a person.  And you can take Arthur down a peg, which means you’re good judge of character who can see that he’s a class A prat” –Arthur let out a noise of protest– “but you haven’t run away from him screaming yet, which means you’re an even _better_ judge of character because you can see that he’s really a softie underneath.”

 

“I, ehm, I mean…”  Arthur, too, seemed to be speechless, staring down at his hands and blushing.

 

“And I heard that you aren’t able to work because of your leg, but I promise you can sit as much as you like.  Probably more than.  Please?  It’ll be fun.  And if you turn out to be a serial killer, well, it’s not like you didn’t warn me.”

 

Merlin continued bobbling his mouth like a fish while Gwen looked at him pleadingly.  What was _wrong_ with these people?  Gwaine invited him back to his circle of friends for a drink, Arthur wanted to get to know him and insisted on driving him home, and now Gwen was offering him a job?  All after a few hours?

 

“Please, just say yes?  You’ll never hear the end of it if you don’t.  She’ll hunt you down and hound you until you give in.  Better to just smile and nod.”  For all the exasperation in his words, Lancelot’s tone was fond as he smiled at Gwen.

 

He did not want to smile and nod.  He wanted to grit his teeth and run.  But he wasn’t being given that option.  He did not need anyone so interested in him that they hunted him down. 

He didn’t even need to _hear_ about someone hunting him down, thank you very much.  But somehow, just like every other time one of these mad people made a suggestion that was more like an order, he found himself doing as he was told, smiling and nodding and accepting the offer/insistence.

 

“Perfect!  Come see me tomorrow morning.”  Gwen fished into her bag and handed over a card.  “We’ll discuss everything then.  I can introduce you to Sefa!  She’s lovely, really.  I’m sure you two will get along splendid.”

 

“Sounds great,” Merlin mumbled, working hard now to keep the cheerful look on his face.  He was going to have to get that fake ID now.  Could Will’s friend even get it done by tomorrow morning?  Probably not.  How wonderful; they were going to have to move again before they’d even finished moving in.

 

Merlin cleared his throat and glanced at his phone.  “I really ought to be going.  Don’t want to, you know, keep Will waiting or anything.”

 

“Let me just pull the car around.”  Arthur stood, fishing keys out of his pocket.

 

“That’s really not necessary–”

 

“It is,” he insisted.  He threw on a tease to make the words less severe than they first seemed.  “You’re working for Gwen now.  Can’t have you run over on the street, can we?”

 

And that was final.

 

“Look,” Merlin said as he slid into the overly posh car, careful not to touch anything lest he break it, “Will was just taking the piss when he said we lived on Harmony Lane.  I’m actually over on Grove Street. Building 425.” If he was going to be forced to accept the ride, he didn’t want it to leave him halfway across the city with no way back.  Will had just been trying to get Arthur to rescind his offer, not strand him.

 

“Grove, huh?  That’s… certainly not the same location.  How long have you lived there?”

 

“Just a bit.  Just moved.  Will probably could remember the address, that’s all.  He’d been drinking.”  A thought occurred to him.  “Should you be driving yourself?”

 

“I’m clean as a whistle.  I was to be the designated driver.  But thank you for the concern.”

 

“Wait, you’re supposed to be driving Gwen and Lancelot?  How will they get home?”

 

“There are these new-fangled things called cabs, _Mer_ lin.”  It wasn’t quite a snap, but it made Merlin uncomfortable anyway.  What was his luck with getting Arthur upset just as he meant to leave?  “You may not have heard of them, but other people do know how to use them.”

 

They rode in silence for the rest of the admittedly short trip.  Arthur’s good mood seemed to have vanished for the drive to Grove Street, leaving Merlin clueless about what had happened.  Parking in front of the building, he seemed to soften a bit, turning to face Merlin with an apologetic smile.  “Do you need a lift to Gwen’s tomorrow?”

 

Merlin was taken aback.  He’d thought for sure he’d done  something –he wasn’t sure what, but he was so new to this whole socializing thing that it could have been anything.  “If you don’t mind… sure, that’d be nice.”

 

He beamed.  “Great.  I’ll text you when I get here.  But you know what that means, right?”

 

Merlin stared at him dumbly.

 

“I’ll need your number.  So I can get a hold of you.”

 

  1. _Right.  That makes sense._



 

He handed over his phone and let Arthur tap his number in.  Merlin didn’t actually remember his own, since he’d never had a reason to give it out before.  At Arthur’s prompting, he sent him a text. “There.  Now I have yours.  So I’ll meet you here at seven-thirty?”

 

“Okay.  Thanks.  Well, ehm, this has been… not entirely terrible.”

 

Arthur let out a laugh.  “It’s been not entirely terrible for me, too.”  He glanced over at Merlin’s building.  “Do me a favour, will you, Merlin?  Your mate, Will… he’s right.  You should get out more often.”

 

“Ehm, yeah.  I’ll do that.”

 

Arthur fiddled awkwardly for a minute, and Merlin wondered if he was debating shaking his hand or giving him a hug.  Arthur didn’t seem like a hug person, but Merlin agreed that a handshake didn’t quite feel right.

 

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”  He gave him a clap on the arm.  Yeah, that felt okay.  The touch sent another odd spark through him.

 

Arthur’s smiled softened.  “Tomorrow.”

 

Merlin walked into his building puzzling the conundrum that was Arthur and his gaggle of friends.

 

 

 

 

“What do you think you’re doing, Merlin?”

 

Will _was_ waiting up for him, accosting him the moment he stepped through the door.  Their flat faced the street; he’d probably seen Arthur dropping him off.

 

“I was making friends?  You know, like you told me to?”

 

“I told you to make friends with Daegal.  Who I _know_.  Not just ditch him for some random group at a club!  For all you know, those people could be serial killers!”

 

He almost giggled at the coincidence, but his annoyance was too high.  “I asked them the same about me.  Isn’t that the risk of meeting new people?  Not knowing if they’ll murder you in your bed?”

 

Merlin had spent his entire life afraid.  He’d been afraid to admit to Will he was alive, terrified to meet Freya, petrified to go out to places by himself, and downright panicked about Will’s idea that he make new friends.  But he’d survived.  He hadn’t liked it, had fought against everything every step of the way, yet he was here and unharmed.

 

And for a while tonight, laughing with Arthur over rescues and bantered insults, he’d actually been happy.  Confused, but happy.  Now Will was trying to take that away because it wasn’t the person _he_ had chosen?

 

“Mary and Tom Collins were taken, you know.  When they came back to search Taliesan’s flat.”

 

Merlin was disappointed, but not overly surprised.  That was why they moved, after all.  Every arrest was followed by a sweep of the building, which meant ID checks to look for renegades, which meant more arrested sorcerers.  But by Will’s own admission this was supposed to be a safe spot.  There shouldn’t be any initial attacks.

 

“You were right.  I did need to start living.  But you don’t get to tell me how to do it.  I’m not an idiot; I wouldn’t do anything to get either of us caught.  _‘Those people_ ’ actually like me.  Maybe not _me_ me, but the most me they’ll ever get.  Why, Gwen even offered me a job!  Didn’t even ask for an ID!”

 

“And what are you going to do when _Gwen_ wants to pay you?  Gonna to tell her you don’t have an account?  That you _can’t_ because you’re a–”

 

“Will!”  They never said it out loud.  Not ever.  Not even when it was just the two of them, because there was no telling who might be listening behind the thin walls of the flat.  They especially didn’t yell it in the quiet of night.

 

“You should have stuck with Daegal,” he insisted.  “I was right, he’s one of your lot, right?  You ought to stick with–”

 

“With what, Will?  Monsters like me?  Because I’m not good enough for _normal_ people?”

 

“Come on, I didn’t mean it like that.”

 

“If you think I’m not fit for being friends with the rest of society why do you even bother with me, huh?  It must be a hardship stooping down to such a level just to put up with having me around.”

 

“Look, I didn’t–”  Will scrubbed his face with a hand.  “I’m just trying to look out for you, Merlin.  You know I only mean the best.  Because you’re not a monster, okay?  You’re no lower than anyone else.   We’ll figure this out, all right?  You’ll just have to turn down the job tomorrow; tell her you have trouble with transport or something.  And you can tell that other fellow that you moved, or maybe that I hate blond blokes so he can’t ever come by.”

 

“No.”

 

“Fine, I’ll admit that’s a barmy excuse, but we’ve got a bit of time, we’ll think of something better–”

 

“That’s not what I– I mean, _no_ , I’m not going to lie to them.”

 

Will gaped.  “You’re not going to–”

 

“Of course not,” Merlin scoffed.  “Like I said, I’m not an idiot.  But I can’t lie to them about anything else.  How would you have felt if Freya had lied to you?  About things other than the… you know.”

 

If Merlin hadn’t come along and outted her, Freya would still be hiding her magic from Will.  It had taken a good bit of convincing on Merlin’s part for her to even admit it to _him_ , despite him coming right out and telling her he had it too and that Will knew and did everything in his power to keep him from being turned in.

 

“That was different.”

 

“No, it’s not.  I can’t start a relationship built on lies.  I have to tell the truth, as much as I can.  Or else one day when the truth comes out, I’ll just be that bloke who people thought they knew.  It won’t be real.”

 

It would never be real.  Merlin and his mother and Will might preach about the nebulous “one day,” but they all knew the terrible truth.  It had been nearly twenty years and “one day” was no closer than it had been.

 

Over time, Merlin had accepted that he would never be normal.  But he wasn’t going to hide the parts of him that were.

 

Will sighed.  It was clear he was still frustrated, but for once it seemed he was finally willing to see things from Merlin’s point of view.  “I just… I don’t want to see anything happen to you.  You don’t deserve that.”

 

“I know I don’t.  But they deserve to know that too.  I _like_ them, Will.”  _I like Arthur._   “I want them to see that I’m more than… that part.  And that that can be enough to overrule that.”

 

“If they hurt you, you know I’m never letting you leave this flat again?”

 

“Deal.”  _If Arthur hurts me, I won’t want to._

 

 

 

 

Merlin hardly slept all night for the excitement and nerves coursing through him.  He was going to have a job.  Outside the flat.  With people other than Will.  What mad pixie had taken over his mind last night?

 

He paced the flat the next morning, forgoing breakfast in favour of another lap around the kitchen.  7:32 rolled around and Arthur still hadn’t let him know he was there.  _This was a mistake.  He’s not coming.  What was I kidding myself; no one wants to be friends with me._

A knocking on the door made him jump.  Oh, God, on top of everything the government was here?

 

  1. _I’m not ready yet.  Please go away._



 

Will wasn’t awake.  He would have to go get him.  That would take time.  Time would make the officials angry.  They might search the flat.  They might find him.

 

Merlin shook himself to steady his thoughts as the pounding continued.  First things first.  He had to get Will up.

 

As expected, Will tried to smack him away, grumbling about “bloody morning people.”  The second Merlin whispered “There’s someone at the door,” however, he was on his feet, sleepily tumbling for the entryway.  Merlin snuck quickly into his room.  Close proximity to his things would be important if he had to make a run for it.

 

There was the sound of locks clicking as Will threw open the door.  A pause during which Merlin expected to hear the dreaded demands of an ID check.  Instead he got Will’s grumpy, “Whadder you doing here?”

 

“I’m here to pick up Merlin to take him to Gwen’s.”

 

Merlin flew out of his room.  “Arthur!  I wasn’t expecting– Sorry.  I’m ready, don’t worry.”

 

Arthur beamed at him.  He looked perfectly ready for the day, decked out in smooth dark jeans and a tight-fitting red shirt, as compared to Merlin’s rumpled button-up –it was the dressiest thing he owned; he wasn’t sure how upper-class Gwen’s place was– and Will’s sleep-rumpled hair.  Come to think of it, Merlin’s hair was rather rumpled itself; he could never get it to lay flat.

 

“I wasn’t worried.  But come on, we don’t want to be late for your first day.”

 

Will stepped in front of Merlin’s path.  “Don’t you have anywhere else you should be?  Like your own job?”

 

“It’s Saturday,” Arthur answered coolly.  “I have the day off.  And there’s no way I’d rather spend it.”

 

Merlin blushed hotly.  Will still didn’t look mollified; if anything he looked even more irritated.  “I’ll meet you down at the car, okay, Arthur?”

 

Arthur nodded, and with one last semi-glare at Will turned to leave.  Will closed the door as soon as he was sure the man was gone.  “Are you sure about this, Merlin?  It’s not too late to use my ‘don’t like blonds’ story.  I’m sure he’ll even buy it.  Doesn’t look too intelligent, that one.”

 

“Stop it, Will.”  The truth was Merlin was nearly shaking with nerves.  He could talk the talk, but when it came down to it, it was just as he’d said to Will: he was taking a huge risk here.  One slip or misjudgement and he’d be arrested.  Not only him, but Will and possibly Freya and his mother, too.  But something in him trusted Arthur.  He had to trust that something.  “It’s going to be fine.”

 

“If it’s not, I’m blaming you.”  He could hear the genuine concern in Will’s voice, though he knew his friend didn’t mean what he said.  Merlin never forgot that Will had given up his normal life for him.  He would be grateful for it until the end of time.  And he knew he wouldn’t be putting Will in threat of danger if it wasn’t important.

 

Arthur was waiting, leaning against his car.  He held open the passenger door for him.  “You promise I’d return you in one piece?”

 

Merlin waved him off, settling in his seat and leaning his cane against the dash.  “I told you, he’s protective.  I asked him to leave you alone next time.”

 

“It’s alright.  I get it.”  Arthur pulled out into traffic, driving leisurely despite his insistence they not be late.  “I had someone like that too, once.”

 

“Had?”  Maybe he shouldn’t ask.  No, he definitely shouldn’t ask.  He asked.  “What happened?”

 

“She was so busy protecting me that she forgot to protect herself.”

 

  1.   Nope, he shouldn’t have asked.



 

But for once Arthur wasn’t finished.  “She would have liked you.  You’re a lot like her.  She was never afraid to put me in my place.  Even when she was defending me it was a lot more like putting me down so I would get so angry I’d pick myself back up.”

 

“She sounds nice.”

 

“She was,” Arthur mused.  “So, are you excited for working at Gwen’s?”

 

Merlin recognized a change of topic when he heard one.  “I’m not really what I’d be doing, honestly.  I’m not exactly a seamstress.”  He’d never had a chance to answer Gwen’s question about his skill with a needle and thread before she’d ploughed ahead with her offer.

 

“But you’re not one of us, either, which means you’re perfect.  Gwen’s had it up to here with us lads trying to help her.  Even Lancelot’s been banned from the premises, and he’s her fiancé.  Just fetch her materials, keep things organized, don’t break the mannequins… I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

 

“Easy for you to say.”

 

Arthur glanced over at him.  “You don’t have much confidence in yourself do you?  Look, Merlin… I know this might seem like a pity offer, but we genuinely like you.  _I_ like you.  We wouldn’t be bothering if we didn’t.  Okay, Lancelot might, because he’s just like that, but you’ve gotten the measure of me.  Do you think I waste my time on charity cases?”

 

He didn’t know what to say to that so he just shook his head.  Arthur didn’t seem like the type to _waste_ his time on anything.  More the type to have a personal planner with every minute scheduled out perfectly.  He thought for a moment about the car he was in.  No, Arthur had a personal _assistant_ to schedule every minute out perfectly.

 

Merlin wasn’t quite sure where he fit in.

 

“Good, because I don’t.  So stop trying to turn down every offer of friendship.  I swear, that’s all this is.  Unless you’re open to something else, and then I’m completely willing to work with that.”

 

Merlin nearly flinched at the idea, but immediately buried his misgivings.  He hadn’t been expecting the proposition –or maybe secretly he had; a small part of him had suspected Arthur might have been flirting with him last night, but it wasn’t as if he had that much experience with it –but he didn’t find it entirely repulsive.  He _liked_ Arthur.  And it worked for Will and Freya, why couldn’t it work for him?

 

Because he was different.  Even amoungst sorcerers, he was the odd one out, born with access to powers that condemned him to a false grave from an early age.  And unlike with Will and Freya, Arthur could never ever know.

 

“Maybe we could… start slow?”

 

Arthur smiled warmly.  “We can do that.  What’s your favourite colour?”

 

They continued with that back and forth.  And for the first time, despite being asked more questions by an outsider than he had been in the four years, Merlin didn’t once feel like he was being interrogated.  Arthur just wanted to _know_.  Because he wanted to know _him_.  His favourite colour, his favourite food, his favourite book… He actually found himself enjoying the back and forth.

 

Gwen’s storefront appeared all too soon.  “Are you coming in?  I know you said you were banned, but does that mean you aren’t even allowed through the door?”  Sweet turnips, he sounded pathetic.

 

“I think she might be willing to make an exception this once.”  He got out of the car and slipped quickly around to grab Merlin’s door, giving him an arm to leverage himself up.  Once again Merlin got that guilty gnaw at his stomach.  He knew that was meant for his leg.

 

A younger girl flitted around inside the shop, adjusting outfits on hangers, picking up and discarding accessories, fluffing a bit of tulle on the display mannequin (the fact that he knew it was tulle just proved he’d grown up with a mother and not a father).  She squeaked when Merlin and Arthur entered.

 

“You’re not supposed to be here.  Don’t touch anything!  Gwen will have my head if you tear something again.”

 

Arthur rolled his eyes.  “Relax, Sefa.  I’m just dropping off Merlin.  I’m sure Gwen mentioned he’d be coming?”

 

Sefa did not relax.  Instead she bit her nails and scurried through a door in the back of the shop.  Gwen came out a few moments later.  “Merlin!  I’m so glad you came!  I’m going to have to put you right to work if you don’t mind.  I hope you have an eye for colours.  A shipment of fabrics just came in and now my storeroom is a mess.  Could you be a dear and put them in some semblance of order for me?”

 

“Ehm–”

 

“Oh, thank you, Merlin!  I knew I could count on you!  Arthur, you can grab a biscuit, but then you’re invited to go anywhere but here.  We have _real_ work to do.”

 

Arthur grinned and gave her a swift kiss on the cheek.  “Of course, my love, anything for you.”

 

Gwen swatted at him.  “Stop it, you.  You’re not getting an extra biscuit.  Merlin can call you when he’s done for the day, but of course you know when we close anyway, so just come back then.”

 

“I look forward to it.”  Merlin’s stomach flipped.  He walked Arthur to the door.

 

On a spur of the moment, he grabbed Arthur by the wrist, ignoring the literal spark that fluttered between them.  “By the way,” he said quietly, “I don’t think she regrets it.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Your friend.  The one you lost because she protected you.  I think she would tell you that it was worth it to keep you safe.”

 

 “… Thank you.”  But Arthur didn’t smile. 

 

“Right,” Gwen clapped her hands together, oblivious to the moment.  Arthur pulled his hand out of the grip reluctantly and walked out.  “So, I’ve got about a hundred different shades of pink in for a wedding in two weeks, and I need it organized today so I can start making bridesmaids’ dresses yesterday.  Are you up for the task?”

 

“Did you know scientists aren’t even sure pink is a real colour?  Technically it’s a combination of red and blue, which are at opposite ends of the light spectrum, which means it shouldn’t even be possible to exist.  Our brains just made it up to fill in what isn’t there.”

 

Despite it sounding like nervous babble to Merlin’s ears –he really needed to learn how to stop opening his big mouth– Gwen giggled.  “Oh, Merlin.  I can tell we’re going to get along splendidly.”

 

 

 

Arthur drove slowly back to his team.  It wasn’t that he was dreading his job.  He loved his job.  It was that he was dreading it in any way involving Merlin.

 

They’d gone to the meeting on Thursday.  Their assignment was one they’d had before in another variation.  Gwaine called it “Follow the Whack-a-Mole,” as if it were some carnival game.  Arthur was starting to worry that this particular game was rigged.

 

They didn’t know exactly who the mole was.  Aredian refused to tell them, claiming they might screw up and blow his cover if they knew before it was time.  The mole didn’t know who they were either, only that when they had figured out who the sorcerer was hiding in the building and how to penetrate it without raising an alarm, they were to send up a signal.  The team only knew it was a young man in possession of an earpiece on their frequency who lived at a specific address they were to watch very closely.  425 Grove Street, to be exact.

 

Merlin’s place.

 

Well, his entire building.  Because Merlin wasn’t involved.  Why, he’d even said he and his flatmate had just moved there, and their operation had been in planning phases for ages.  Ergo, it had nothing to do with Merlin.

 

But Merlin still lived in the building.  He was still surrounded somewhere by sorcerer scum.  Arthur ought to consider convincing him to move.  Or he could finish the op and get the scum out of there for him.  Yes, that would probably be easier.  And safer.  What if Merlin moved and ended up in another building with sorcerers?

 

Or worse, what if they tried to convert him?

 

Merlin seemed so kind, but naïve at the same time.  Perhaps it was the fault of his mate Will, so overly protective of him.  Arthur hadn’t been lying when he said he’d been in the same position.  Morgana had done, or tried to do, the same for him.

 

Morgana, oh, he hadn’t thought of her for ages.  It had been a conscious decision.  It hurt less to try to forget.  But then moments like these brought her crashing to the forefront again, and he couldn’t turn her away if he tried.

 

She had been his best friend from the moment he was born, a year older and the daughter of his father’s own best friend.  They had been inseparable, even when they went through the phase where it was “uncool” to have a friend of the opposite gender.  When Morgana’s parents died and Uther took her in, Arthur had been completely willing to accept her as his sister, and she him as her brother.  They’d been happy together, that was, until Morgana was thirteen.

 

Morgana had had nightmares since she was ten years old.  Arthur had done his best to comfort her, but they seemed to get worse and worse.  The day she woke up at his prodding and the vase next to her bed shattered, Arthur had been terrified.  Not as terrified as she was, though.  She had begged him not to tell Uther, and he had complied.  But when her night light started sparking and set her room on fire, Arthur knew he had to do something.  He had regretted that decision for the rest of his life.

 

His sister was taken away, and Uther informed him that she had perished due to a sorcerer’s curse.

 

Every day since Arthur had dedicated himself to ridding the world of the evils of magic.  He would not let another fall to its darkness.  He would not let _Merlin_ fall.  He hadn’t been able to save Morgana, but he would save this shy man who acted like he didn’t deserve a friend.  That was a promised he intended to keep.

 

Arthur replaced his earpiece as he drew nearer to the house.  They’d done distance recon last night, but now they were going to be the kindly neighbours, knocking on doors, finding out who was sticking closer to the building than they ought to.  Planting bugs in whatever flats they could slip far enough into to hide one.  “Prince to Knights.  Come in, Knights.”

 

“Knights present and prepared for action.”

 

“Hey, boss, how was your early morning date with Merlin?”

 

“ _No names!_ ” Arthur hissed immediately, too incensed over the breach in protocol to berate Gwaine for his teasing.

 

“Sorry, how was your date with… what are we supposed to call him then?  If you’re Prince, does that make him your princess?”

 

Lancelot laughed.  “I think he shot you down on that one already the other night, Knight 3.”

 

“He did at that.  Servant, then?”

 

“I’m not sure the connotations are right there.  He doesn’t seem the subservient type,” Percival piped in.

 

“Hmm, you’re right.  Fine, what do you pick for a codename, Prince?”

 

Arthur could think of several, but they all seemed too mushy to admit to his team.  What would Merlin pick for himself?  “How about… Knight X?”

 

“Like an extra knight?  I could get behind that,” Elyan agreed.

 

“He could take down the sorcerers with his cane of feelings.”

 

“Cane of feelings?  Really?”

 

“He’s a neutral good.  I think he deserves one.”

 

“Oh, God, Percival’s been playing Dungeons and Dragons again.”

 

“It is a legitimate RPG enjoyed by–”

 

“That’s enough.  We’re here to work, not start in on that again.  Knights 1, 4, and 5, you’re on perimeter.  I want to know exactly who’s walking and out of these doors.  2 and 3, you’re inside with me.  Knight 2, you take the landlord.  Chat him up, get the inside scoop on how he picks his tenants.  3, we’re talking to the residents, any of them that are in.  We’re just two blokes looking for a place to rent and want to know how they like living there.  No engagement, just talking.”

 

His team confirmed their assignments.  He knew none were disappointed.  Gwaine and Lancelot were better at the talking thing, while the others did best in the background.  Today was just recon.  Even if they spotted something suspicious, they wouldn’t call the subject out on it.  It would simply be filed away for later and round the clock surveillance could be more specifically targeted.

 

They met no resistance to entering the building.  Arthur hadn’t expected any after he had snuck up to Merlin’s flat earlier that morning.  The landlord recognised him and nodded as he passed, once again giving him that strange knowing look he’d possessed when Arthur had come to pick up Merlin.  Lancelot broke off to start his chat.  They left him to it and headed up to the first floor.

 

No one was home in any of the flats there, but when they headed up to the second floor they found a smattering.  A scowling preteen informed them that he hated living in the building and if his mum wasn’t practically chaining him there he’d’ve moved out a long time ago.  A young man who went by the name of Gilli smiled at them nervously and said they probably didn’t care for his opinion, but he’d been living in cramped let-out rooms above pubs for the last few years, so this was like Heaven.  His neighbour George tied them up for nearly half an hour describing every feature of the flat in detail, and then filling them in on every indiscretion committed by his fellow tenants.

 

Arthur was willing to bet he was the plant.  He seemed the type, boring enough not to draw notice, but sharp enough to notice what he was supposed to.  Or perhaps he was the sorcerer and this was his way of magically boring them to death.

 

“George, love, I bought this from an antique shop, and in this light it doesn’t quite have the shine I was hoping for.  Could you help me?”

 

Gwaine and Arthur turned to find a young woman standing at the end of the hall.  She held out a brass candlestick.  George beamed and took it cheerfully.  “Of course!  It’s my pleasure!”

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!  I didn’t mean to tear you away from you conversation.  Gentlemen, how about I offer you a cup of tea as repayment?”

 

They quickly latched onto the offer, scuttling into her flat.

 

“You are a beautiful human being,” Gwaine exclaimed as soon as the door was closed.  “Can I buy you a drink?  Perhaps be the father of your children?”

 

She didn’t laugh.  Face stony, she crossed her arms and stared them down.  “I don’t like you.”

 

Arthur blinked.  But… she’d never even met them!  Or wait… she looked slightly familiar… “Were you at the club last night?  Yeah… you were with Merlin’s friend.”  No wonder she didn’t like them if she had that lout whispering in her ear.

 

“Yes, I was.  And I’ll say it again: I don’t know what you’ve promised Merlin, but I don’t like you.  If you hurt him, I’ll hurt you.”

 

Considering the girl was barely the size of Arthur’s pinkie, he doubted she could inflict much damage.  But it was nice to see Merlin really did inspire loyalty in his friends, not just the protectiveness of the curmudgeonly Will.

 

“I promise, no one’s out to hurt him.  I don’t know why it is that everyone thinks we will.  You’ve even got Merlin thinking it.  He’s not a child.”

 

“Neither are you, but that doesn’t mean you won’t engage in childish games.  Like this.  What are you doing here?”

 

“We’re looking for a flat,” Gwaine piped up.

 

“You won’t get one here.  There’re no openings.  Try across town.  I’m sure they have some vacant ones over there.”

 

“Oh really?  I heard tell you had an empty one upstairs.”

 

“You heard wrong.  Merlin and Will just moved in there Monday.  Vacancy’s gone.  Sorry, boys.”

 

  1.   He’d just seen Merlin at the pub Sunday night.  Was that meant to be a celebratory drink for his new place?  Alone?  “Fine.  In case there _is_ an opening in the near future, what would you say about life in the building?”



 

“I’d say it’s a wonderful place filled with a wonderful group of people.  But you can’t trust everyone, no matter how _wonderful_ they might seem,” her gaze narrowed even further.

 

“But you trust Merlin.”  Enough to threaten him, even if she didn’t know who he was or who worked for.

 

She locked eyes with him.  “With my life.  And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him unharmed.”

 

A knock on the door interrupted any response Arthur might have made.  “Freya?”  George poked his head in.  “I’m all finished.  I hope the shine is to your satisfaction.  Is there anything else you need polished?”

 

“No, thanks, George.  I’m done with your guests, too, so you can have them back.”  She graced them with a small smirk when their faces drooped.

 

“Excellent!  I can tell you all about internal conditioning system.”  He left, clearly expecting them to follow.  Dragging their feet, Gwaine and Arthur went after him.

 

Arthur stopped at the door.  “Freya?”  She raised an eyebrow questioningly.  “What is it about Merlin you trust more than these other people?”

 

For the first time her expression softened.  “Merlin’s special.  Not everyone gets to see that, because he keeps himself locked up most of the time, but he is.

 

“Don’t hide from him.  He’s going to do it to you, but if you’re really serious about him –which you had better be if you’re going to insist on sticking around him– then the only way to let him know whether it’s worth it to come out of the shadows is to prove to him you’re worthy of the light.”

 

 

 

 

A knowledge of the colour pink was definitely a necessity for the job Gwen had in store for him.  That and the ability to make order out of chaos, for that was what her backroom was: complete and total madness.  Bolts fabric had been thrown haphazardly on shelves, strings of lace and beads dangled from pegs, and there was a large snarl of yarn that Merlin half expected to be hiding a monster.

 

“I know,” Gwen wrung her hands nervously, as if expecting him to turn and run at the sight of the place.  “I know it’s a lot to ask, probably impossible to accomplish, but will you try?  Please?  I promise, I’ll pay you for the work.  Not that I think you’re the type to only to interested in money, obviously I’m sure you’re not like that at all, but I mean –”

 

“It’s fine, Gwen.”  Merlin had to smile.  It was a rare thing to find someone as nervous about talking to other people as he was.  “I don’t mind, really.”

 

“Are you sure?  That’s _wonderful_ , Merlin!  Oh, thank you so much!  I have to get back to sewing, but we’ll talk about wages and hours and such at lunch time.  Did you bring a lunch?  Perfect.  If you can clear a big enough space on the tables by then, we’ll eat together right in here.  Sefa usually joins her father for lunch, but I’m sure you and her will have plenty of opportunity to get to know each other!”

 

Merlin chuckled to himself as Gwen hurried back out of the room and left him to it.  Well, perhaps she didn’t have as much of problem as he had.

 

There was no clear place to begin with the room, so he just grabbed the first thing that his hands touched and threw it in the starts of a pile.  Merlin went through the rest of the room like that, until three-quarters of it was strewn about the floor.  If he had to admit it, it didn’t make the place look much neater.  In fact, it appeared ten times as bad as when he had walked in.  Leaving the last quarter as it was, he started to put things back on shelves inside, hoping that by the time Gwen came and checked in with him, there would at least be some semblance of order to part of the room.

 

It was hard to work with the tingling buzzing through his body.  Merlin kept up a steady prayer that it was just an ache from disused muscles suddenly being asked to work.  Deep down, he knew it wasn’t.  He knew exactly what it was: magic.

 

Merlin hadn’t voluntarily used his magic in over a decade.  While Hunith had taught him all manner of things so that he might function in the outside world –how to interact with people, basic schooling, the ways of the world– she had never once tried to train his magic.  Once he was old enough to figure out that was what was keeping him captive –and for it to stop spurting out at random intervals– he had shoved it inside, hoping it would just go away.

 

It hadn’t.  At first the magic had felt restless inside him, trying to force itself out, prickling at his skin.  But Merlin had been resilient, refusing to let it budge.  At first it was because he hoped that if he was able to stop it, he might be able to have a real life again.  Once he realized that wasn’t the case, hiding had become such a second nature that it never even occurred to him to try to use it again.

 

But the feeling of it had always stayed just below his skin, quiet enough he could usually ignore it, but _there_ enough to remind him it had never left.  While before it had prickled at him like a sulking cat, saddened he wasn’t letting it out to play, now it was more like a cat that had sensed cat nip, hissing and demanding to be released.

 

There was no way Merlin was going to oblige.  He didn’t even know why it was doing this now.  Did his magic not like him having a life?  Well, in that case it was just going to have to get used to it, because despite the near constant surges of fear, Merlin was rather liking his new independence.  He was not about to give it up just because of a bit of discomfort.

 

Not that it was unpleasant… and as a young –naïve– child he’d quite liked the little tricks his magic allowed him…

 

  1.   He couldn’t give in to it.  So long as it stayed inside him and nowhere else, Merlin was going to be like everyone else.  And everyone else lived without magic or –literally– died trying.



 

Gwen let out a squeal of delight when she saw the room, despite it only being half clean.  “I knew I did the right thing hiring you!  This is marvellous, Merlin!  I didn’t even know it could be this organized.”

 

“I’m not done yet,” he mumbled, unused to such praise.

 

She waved his protest aside.  “You can finish up after lunch.  It’s time for you to take a rest.  I do hope you haven’t been working yourself too hard.  You know you can take a break and rest your leg whenever you need, right?  I don’t mean to be a slave driver.  Please don’t think I’ll fire you for not working constantly.  I completely understand if you have pain and need to sit for a while, after all–”

 

“ _Gwen_.”  Merlin got the feeling he was going to have to interrupt her babbling on a regular basis.  “It’s fine.  My leg doesn’t hurt, really.”

 

“Good,” she beamed.  “Now, let’s sit and talk shop, shall we?”

 

Merlin had indeed clear off enough of the table so they could eat there.  He pulled out his sandwich –that was what Will usually took to work, so he was sure it couldn’t be considered too odd– and sat down next to her.  Gwen had a large bowl of salad, though from the amount of chicken and dressing on it, he guessed it was more because she liked the taste than an attempt to watch her weight.

 

“So, I keep the shop open five days a week, closed on Wednesdays and Sundays.  That way we all get a break, but there’s an opportunity for those that work long weekday hours, you know?  Obviously you don’t have to come in all of those days, but maybe if you could be here Friday and Saturday, and maybe Monday, too?  I know that takes away a good bit of your weekend, but I’d really appreciate it.”

 

“That sounds fine.”  It’s not like he was doing anything else to occupy his time.

 

“What were you thinking for pay?  I’m doing alright, and obviously I don’t have that many employees, but since it’s a fairly new business I’m afraid I can’t afford much right now, you know, needing to keep some aside for unforeseen emergencies.  Plus a good chunk of it I give to charity, helping out those in need.”

 

  1.   The hard part.  “You don’t need to pay me, Gwen.  Really.  Will and me, we do alright.”



 

That was a lie.  Living on Will’s meagre pay check they were just barely scraping by.  Moving flats all the time didn’t help matters; the cost of breaking leases spur of the moment wasn’t cheap.  But what else could they do?  What else could Merlin do now?

 

“Are you sure?” Gwen frowned, picking at her salad.  “I really hate asking you to work for nothing.  You have to let me repay you somehow.”

 

“You will, I’m sure.  Maybe you can make me a shirt or something sometime.”

 

“Merlin, dear, I will make you an entire _wardrobe_ if you can keep pulling off miracles like this.  Sefa and I have been trying to get this room into some kind of order for ages, and nothing!  Do you have some kind of secret talent you aren't telling me about?"  
  
"I'm just an organizing wizard, I guess."  He could have slapped himself.   _Great way to hide, Merlin.  Why not just jump up and down and say “Hey look at me, I'm a sorcerer!_ He'd been growing careless since he met Arthur and his friends.  He had to get a hold of himself.  
  
Gwen didn’t seem to notice anything, though.  “You should get Arthur to let you into his flat for a day.  The place is a mess.  I honestly don’t know how he lives there.  Not that I’m one to talk, of course, I don’t mean to sound judgement.  My own house would be just as bad if not for Lance; he’s the tidy one.  But I only meant I get the feeling Arthur will invite you over sooner or later.  Lance and I were talking last night about how he seems quite taken with you.”

 

Merlin blushed.  Was it that obvious to everyone?  Was it supposed to be?  He thought about Will and Freya.  It was certainly obvious to him that they loved each other.  But they were already together, had been for years.  Arthur and him had just met.

 

“I… ah…”

 

“He really is quite nice once you get to know him.  I know he can come on a bit strong at times, but he means well, truly.  Just, I hate to sound rude or anything, and please don’t tell him I said this, but– I would decline at first if he offers to introduce you to his father.  He’s not a bad person, but he’s just… a bit intense?  Although if you and Arthur become serious I’m sure you’ll have a much better reason for getting acquainted with him than I will.”

 

Now Merlin wished he could sink into the floors.  He and Arthur weren’t even dating yet and Gwen practically had them married.  “So, he’s…” Merlin cleared his throat to hide the squeak.  “Arthur’s close to his dad, then?”

 

“I would say so.  Arthur’s always looked up to him, for sure.  Modelled everything after him.  Always has.  Not saying they don’t have their spats –what parent and child don’t –but they do love each other.”  She seemed to suddenly realize how uncomfortable he was by the topic of conversation.  “Not that you have to worry about all that right now!  I mean… really, you ought to just clap a hand over my mouth.  I tend to blather when I shouldn’t, I always have.  Just ignore me.”

 

Gwen jumped to her feet, packing her salad dish away.  “I should get back to work, don’t you think?  Feel free to continue taking a break.  The fabrics aren’t going anywhere.  I’ll just get the material I need, and I’ll be going.”

 

Gwen hefted a ladder over to the unorganized section of the room.  _Of course she would need something from there_ , Merlin thought ruefully.  He watched as she scaled it and began feeling around on the top shelf for the fabric she wanted.

 

It all happened before Merlin had time to blink.  Or, more accurate, it happened before Gwen had time to blink.  One moment she was swaying on the creaking wooden ladder, and the next she was suspended in mid-air.

 

  1.   Like magic.



 

Merlin froze for what felt like forever, though when he finally got the wherewithal to move, he realized it was his own terror that was holding him there, not the spell that had enthralled the rest of the room.  Gwen remained where she was, one foot just scraping a rung, the rest of her flung back and meaning to hurtle towards the ground.  If she continued her trajectory, she would smash her head on the table.  Such an impact could kill her, paralyze her at least.

 

He didn’t even know he was crossing the room until he was underneath her, arms outstretched to catch.  Then the world was moving again, and Gwen screamed her way into his grasp.

 

“Oh!  Oh my… How did you…?  Oh, God, I could have…”

 

It took a long moment before she was coherent again, but that was fine by Merlin.  He wasn’t going to be coherent for a long time after.

 

 

 

Gwen insisted he spend the rest of the day sitting down by her side.  Once she had recovered from her shock, she’d spent nearly ten minutes thanking him for his act of heroism.  Sefa had run in after hearing the scream, sure that she was walking into a grisly murder scene.  After the girl had determined that Gwen wasn’t hurt and Merlin wasn’t a serial killer, she had set about making tea for them both.  Gwen continued to shake too badly to do anything else herself, so they passed the time until closing with him watching her browse new designs online.

 

Merlin hid his hands in his lap to hide the fact that he was shaking as well.  Magic.  He’d done magic.  The instinctive spurts were happening again, despite his efforts to stop them.  He should have seen this coming.  The itch under his skin should have been a warning.  What had prompted the increase in it so much that it was bursting out without his bidding he didn’t know.

 

When closing came around, Arthur showed up as promised, looking confused to find them all just sitting around.

 

“Usually Lancelot has to drag you out of here at the end of the day, fingers bleeding.  You’re not falling behind in your work to coddle Merlin just because he’s new, are you?”

 

Merlin bristled at the suggestion, but Arthur seemed genuinely concerned.  It made sense he would take up her side, having known her longer.  Probably the first thing the man had ever done that made sense in this whole time Merlin had met him.

 

“Arthur!” Gwen cried, outraged.  “Don’t speak about him like that!  Merlin saved my life today!”

 

Arthur looked even more alarmed now.  “What?  He did?  What happened?  Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine, and yes, he did.  I still don’t know how he managed it.  I was up on that rickety ladder –yes, the one you and Lance are always after me to replace; I’ll do it now, I promise –and I’m afraid I over-balanced.  Would have split my head right open if it weren’t for Merlin here.  He was across the room to catch me before I even had the chance to scream.  Snatched me right out of the air!  If it weren’t for him, I’d be the A&E right now with a cracked head.”

 

Arthur eyed him appreciatively.  “Sounds like you’re a hero.”

 

“Yeah, ehm, I guess,” Merlin muttered, unnerved by the attention.  He just wanted to go home.  What if the whole freezing thing happened again and someone noticed?  They wouldn’t think him much of a hero then.

 

“This calls for a celebration.  We’re going to dinner.”

 

Merlin sputtered.  He couldn’t go to a restaurant.  They never took paper money.  Arthur would want to know why he couldn’t pay, and Merlin wouldn’t have an answer, and Arthur would get suspicious, and he would report him and everything would be over before it began.  And on top of his magic outburst, it would be too much, far too much for one day.

 

“On me, of course.”

 

Merlin still could have made an excuse.  His leg hurt.  He had plans with Will.  He wasn’t dressed for going out.  He had to wash his hair tonight.  “Okay.  Sure.”

 

Arthur beamed.  “Great.  I know the perfect place.”  He swept his arm out to lead him to the car.  “Coming, Gwen?”

 

“No, no, I’m going to head home.”  She winked.  “You boys have fun.  I’ll see you Monday, Merlin?  Eight o’clock?”

 

“Monday at eight.”  _And no accidents next time._

 

Arthur opened the car door him again.  Merlin wished Arthur would stop being so nice to him, though he knew it was a ridiculous thought.  “So, what’s it like working for Gwen and not being yelled at all day?”

 

“I don’t know.”  He fought to keep his voice light.  “Lemme try it for a day and I’ll let you know.”

Arthur laughed boisterously, and the sound helped Merlin to relax.  “You can’t fool me.  She liked you.  I’m the one who introduced her to Lancelot and I still haven’t even gotten so much as a thank you.  From either of them, come to think of it, but don’t tell Lance.  He’d pout knowing he’d been impolite.”

 

“Just how long have you known… everybody?”

 

“Leon and I have been friends for ages, back since we were kids.  Elyan, too –that’s Gwen’s brother.  The other’s –Gwaine, Lancelot, and Perce –well, Gwaine and Lance were assigned to my team, and then Lancelot brought Perical in.  And Gwen, ehm, she’s…” Arthur hesitated, suddenly looking sad and uncomfortable.  “She was my… friend’s friend.”

 

Merlin wondered if it was the same girl he’d been talking about this morning.  It was obvious he didn’t want to say any more about it, though.  Merlin certainly wasn’t going to push it.  “Must be nice, to have so many you’ve grown close to.  I’ve only ever had Will.  And Freya now, I guess, but she’s only really been around the last few years.”  Technically Will had too, but he knew it would be weird to say he’d been entirely friendless his whole life.

 

“And now you have me.  And the guys.  And Gwen.  I know we aren’t much, but we’ll try.”

 

 _You won’t stay friends with me when you know_.  Will was right; trying to make friends with normal people was a mistake.  He should have stuck with Daegal, who even if Merlin still wouldn’t have told his secret, at least would have been harbouring one of his one.

 

“Arthur was saying something else as they parked outside the restaurant.  Merlin was surprised; it wasn’t some posh place like he expected, just a run of the mill diner.  “–name, you know, if I’m going to get to know you better.”

 

Merlin tore himself away from his thoughts.  “Huh?  Sorry, checked out there for a minute.”

 

“I was just saying, it might be nice to know your name, if we’re going to do this whole knowing each other thing properly.”

 

“But you know my name.”

 

“Your last name, idiot.  For example, I am Arthur du Bois.  And you are?”

 

Merlin hoarded his last name.  It was a precious commodity, because with it even if he weren’t considered alive he could be tracked back to his mother, and she would be punished for not turning him in.  _“Isn’t that the risk of meeting new people?  Not knowing if they’ll murder you in your bed?”_   It was all about trust.  Whether or not he trusted Arthur.  He wasn’t sure yet if the answer was yes, but therein laid the risk.  “Emerson.  Merlin Emerson.”

 

“Emerson.  Like son of Emer?”

 

“No.  Can’t say my father’s name was even close to Emer.  Or at least I don’t think so.  He died before I was born.”

 

“Oh.”  Arthur sank in guilt.  “I’m sorry for your loss.  I didn’t mean to pry.”

 

“You didn’t know,” Merlin shrugged.  Neither did he, actually.  His mum never talked about his father.  He gestured them inside.  “So, what did you do all day today?”

 

“Oh, well, you know.  Hung with the guys,” Arthur answered vaguely, face turning slightly pink.  Merlin didn’t understand the reaction.  He’d never been embarrassed about spending time with Will, nor vice versa.  Maybe they had done something silly, like trying on Gwen’s clothes?  Merlin and Will had done that once, when they had gotten completely smashed one night.  It hadn’t been so terrible until they found out Freya had pictures.

 

“Sounds fun,” he said obligingly.  A part of him pointed out that this was the second time Arthur had avoided a topic that afternoon, but if Merlin didn’t want others poking at his secrets, he had to allow them a few of their own.

 

He let Arthur lead the conversation from there.  It was a bit stilted, neither knowing what topics were off-limits, but they made it work.  At some point Merlin realized that Arthur had grabbed his hand across the table and was absentmindedly stroking the top with his thumb, but he didn’t pull away.

 

The moment was broken when Arthur’s mobile rang shrilly.  Grimacing he pulled it from his pocket.  “Sorry, I’ve got to…”

 

“Go on.”

 

“Arthur,” he answered shortly.  Whoever was on the other side must have been far from someone he wished to talk to, because his expression went stormy and closed off.  “Right. … I’m a bit busy. … Fine.  I’ll be there.”

 

With a scowl he hit the “End Call” button.  “I’m so sorry.  It’s work.  I can’t get out of it.”

 

“That’s fine.  I understand.  Duty calls.”  But Merlin couldn’t deny he was disappointed.

 

“I’ll still pick you up Monday, if that’s okay?  Take you to Gwen’s?  Then maybe we could do something together?  The guys want to meet up with you, too, if you’re free sometime.”

 

“Yeah, sure.  To all of that, I mean.  Sounds good, great even.”

 

A hint of Arthur’s smile returned.  “Yeah.  Great.”

 

It was only after Merlin entered his building that he realized Arthur had made him completely forget about his magic outburst.

 

He was so screwed.  
”The working lad returns!  Tell me young buck, how was your first day of being a fine working citizen?”

 

Merlin could tell by his over-enthusiasm Will was still uneasy about Merlin’s newfound freedom.  “It was fine.  Gwen says I can work for free, so we don’t have to worry about that.”  There was no need to tell him about the little barely a hiccough of magic.  It would only worry him more.

 

“That’s… good.  That’s good, Merlin, really.  I’m glad you’re taking this whole getting out thing seriously.”

 

There was a good bit of sarcasm there that stung at him, but Merlin chose not to rise to the bait.  “Going to see Freya tonight?”

 

“Yeah.  Going to see what’s-his-face?”

 

“ _Will…_ ”

 

“Fine.  I’ll be staying at Frey’s overnight, so don’t wait up for me.  Then I’ve got work all day tomorrow.  You know.”

 

“Yeah.  Right.  Not ‘til Monday myself.”

 

“Good.  That’s good,” Will repeated.  “So, ehm… yeah.  See ya?”  


Merlin sighed as the door shut behind him.  He hated fighting with Will.  Especially after everything Will had done for him.  Once again he wondered if maybe he should quit all this.  Drop the job at Gwen’s and tell Arthur and the others couldn’t hang out with them anymore and just stick with those who were safe.

 

_You don’t want to just be safe.  Isn’t that what you told your mother?_

 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true.  Merlin did want to be safe.  He craved to be safe.  But no amount of hiding could give him that.  Because he wasn’t free.  Not for the first time, Merlin wished he’d been born normal.  Then he could go out and be friends with anyone he wanted without fear of the consequences being his untimely death.  Why did _he_ have to be the one stuck with this stupid magic?

 

Speaking of magic…

 

There was no avoiding today’s episode.  If his magic was spiking out randomly, it could spell disaster if he didn’t get it under control.

 

Not that he knew how to do that.  Back when he was younger, once he’d figured out how to get some kind of control, he’d trained himself to ignore.  It had been habit to freeze falling things in midair for his mother to save her a mess, just as he’d frozen Gwen.  So he had to learn to pretend things weren’t happening so he wouldn’t accidently react.  It had made him dreadfully unobservant to everything in the end, but it had helped.

 

But he couldn’t have ignored a falling Gwen, could he?  She could have been horribly injured by that fall.  His magic had been helpful then, hadn’t it?  Well, actually it had never been _un_ helpful.  He had fetched dishes off high shelves and put them away, folded clothing, fixed broken vases (which he had usually broken himself _without_ magic).  He’d never done anything _bad_.  He _wasn’t_ bad.  That was what his mother repeated every time she’d had to scold him for using it, and he would burst into tears because he’d broken the rules again.  He just never _understood_ the rules.  He still didn’t.

 

_“People fear what they can’t understand.  But that doesn’t mean it’s actually worthy of fear.  You are a wonderful little boy, no matter what anyone tries to tell you.”_

 

Maybe… If he still had access to his magic, what was wrong with using it, so long as he was careful?  It’s not like there were cameras in the flat watching his every move (Will had checked).  If he was going to be illegal anyway, why not deserve it?

 

But he was getting ahead of himself. First things first: he had to get himself under control.

 

Merlin locked himself in his bedroom and shut the curtains, using alligator clips and gaffer tape to ensure they wouldn’t flutter open.  Then he rummaged around in his bag for a sock.  He had to start small, and socks wouldn’t make loud thudding noises when he failed.  Merlin tossed the sock on the bed and stepped back.

 

And took a deep, shuddering breath.  His heart pounded rapidly in his chest.  He was going to do this.  He was going to purposefully use the very thing that could get him killed.

 

Merlin’s hand shook as he lifted it towards the sock.  Other sorcerers had incantations, chants, spells.  He had only instinct.  Merlin could feel the tingling rising his skin.  He closed his eyes.  It would be much less worse if he didn’t have to watch.

 

The tingling spiked, and Merlin’s eyes shot open.  The sock dropped on the bed with a flump.

 

_Oh no.  Oh no, oh no, oh no.  That just happened. I did that.  I did **it**._

 

Merlin whirled around frantically, expecting the government to come crashing through to take him away.  Nothing happened.  A car backfried on the street and he thought he might have had  minor heart attack.  But he definitely didn’t shriek.

 

Definitely not.

 

Merlin stood shaking for another ten minutes before he tried again.  This tme he kept his eyes open  and watchas the sock roise in the air, Floated acorss the room.  Dropped back in his duffle.  Folded itself back up with its mate.

 

For the next few hours he went bigger and bigger, lifting, pillows, making his bed, opening and closing (unused) drawers.  It was nearly midnight before he ventured out into the kitchen.  Making sure the curtains were closed there as well, he used his magic to pour himself a tumbler of whiskey.  Merlin picked it up with his hands and downed it in one go to calm his shattered nerves.

 

He’d done it.  He was doing it.  He was using his magic.

 

For the first time something bright blossomed in his chest.  The tingling that had plagued him for so long had finally gone away, subsisding to a gentle purr.  No one had come to arrest him, no one was going to come.

 

It took a long moment for Merlin to recongise the felling for what it was.   He was… happy.  He had a job.  He had friends.  He had his gift.

 

So of course later he would wonder why he hadn’t suspected that everything was already going wrong.

 

 

 

 

Arthur was a totally despicable person, and if there was a place worse than Hell, that was where he deserved to go for the rest of forever.

 

Honestly, how could he have just sat there smilking across from Merlin after what he’d just done?  He might as well have come out and called the dinner what it was: an apology that didn’t nearly make up for his actions.  It was made all the worse by the fact that Merlin had no idea he was apologizing, nor even that he had anything to apologize for.

 

It had been a spur of the moment decision.  Arthur had seen the dark little hollow and the evil part of his brain that lacke the ability to check with his conscience had whispered “that looks like a great place for a bug.”  “It’s not really Merlin’s place, just his friend’s.”  “She doesn’t thrust her neighoburs; that’s suspicious.”  Then before he even knew it was happening, his hand had dsnaked out and hid the bug in Freya’s flat.

 

Yes, definitely despicable.  Was there a word worse than despicable?  He was that.

 

Arthur just wouldn’t listen to it.  Yes, that was it.  Elyan was in charge of electronics.  He woud just make sure that the line of sound was turned off.  Next time he went to pick Merlin up he would stop in and take the bug away.  No one would ever know.

 

But all that was a problem for tomorrow.  For now Arthur had something worse to deal with: a summons from his father.

 

For Uther to call him during non-work hours –although technically it was always work hours for Uther –meant that it was either urgent or personal.  Neither boded well.  Arthur wasn’t sure which he would prefer.  Although at least if it was urgent work business he would have the help of his team.  Personal he would have only his own shoulders to carry it on.

 

It was encouraging that his father had asked him to meet at the office.  Uther believed in keeping relationships out of the office.  Arthur wasn’t even supposed to refer to him as “father” unless they were standing in one of their own homes.  They had gone so far as to legally change Arthur last name to avoid anyone associating them as father and son.  It was for Arthur’s own protection, really.  Uther had plenty of enemies that would have no qualms about using Arthur against him.

 

His father’s secretary smirked at him when he entered.  Arthur smiled tightly back.  Catrina had never liked him, for reason known only to her.  But she had worked for Uther since before Arthur was born.  He was willing to believe his father would cast him out before firing her.

 

“Mr Pendragon has been awaiting your arrival,” she said, as though Arthur was deliberately late despite not having an actual appointment.

 

Arthur ignored her and knocked on his father’s office door, waiting for the signal before entering.  Uther was typing away at his desk.  Arthur had no doubt it was actual work on the screen.  Uther had never been an absentee parent –indeed, he’d been almost _too_ involved in both Arthur’s and Morgana’s lives –but he was dedicated to his work and his cause.  If he wasn’t with his children he’d been at the office.  Lately with Arthur’s career taking off he was usually at the office _and_ with his son.

 

“You asked me to come, sir?”

 

“Arthur, yes.”  He locked up from the screen to face him, giving his full attention.  “In your last report there was mention of a confrontation with a seer?”

 

“Yes, sir.”  At least he assumed there must be.  Leon had filed it, not him.

 

“Of course you know we take all allegations in regards to the future very seriously.”  Arthur didn’t know that, actually.  It had never happened to him before.  “Even more seriously when they are in regards to you.”  Wait, there had been futures told about him before?  Why hadn’t he been informed?  “We have run this through all the proper channels, and I want you to know you have nothing to worry about.”

 

“It was a false alarm?”  He had thought as much at the time, that it was just an empty threat meant to frighten him.  But Arthur was a Pendragon.  He was made of stronger stuff.

 

“I didn’t say that.  The others concur, there is indeed a prophecy regarding your future.  However, I have been assured beyond all doubt that it will not be detrimental to you.  In fact, most believe it will be the most beneficial future you could possibly have.”

 

“Who are these… _others_?”  Arthur’d assumed that by proper channels his father meant they had simply interrogated the target Arthur’s team had brought in.  “You can’t mean…”

 

“Our other seers, of course.”  Uther waved the question aside.  “Did you think we would leave ourselves defenceless?  What do you think we do with all the sorcerers you arrest?  To kill them all would be a waste of resources.  Of course some _are_ disposed of.  But the ones we do keep are all utilized in some capacity to aid us in our fight against the rest of their kind.  Only once the last one has been removed can we commence elimination.  Sorcery is a plague on our society, Arthur.  We are searching for a cure.  To find one, we must educate ourselves on the disease.”

 

Arthur supposed that made sense.  He had been raised to see magic as nothing but a curse.  That had been his experience, too, huting sorcerers.  Maybe if there had been some kind of vaccine.  Morgana never would have fallen prey…

 

“Is that all you wished to tell me, sir?  That I have a good future ahead of me?”

 

Uther frowned.  “Unfortunately no.  It seems there is another player where your future is concerned.  Your rise can only come with the aid of a specific sorcerer.  They call him Emrys.”

 

Aid?  From a sorcerer?  “Surely they’re lying.”

 

“They cannot lie to me,” Uther corrected sternly.  “Measures have long been put in place to prevent that.  We have been utilizing their services for years.  This intel is accurate.”

 

“How exactly am I supposed to convince a _sorcerer_ to help me?”

 

“You will not _convince_ him of anything.  You will capture him, and one way or another we will make him… _understand_ that he has no other choice.  This Emrys is supposedly the most powerful sorcerer their kind has ever known.  I will _not_ have him opposing us, even if he were not a part of this prophecy.  He alone could wreak havoc on our world.”

 

 _Then why hasn’t he_?  The traitorous thought came to him before he could stop it.  It seemed to him if this Emrys was so all-powerful, he would have gone for global domination by now.  Or at least, you know, tried to overthrow Uther.  But “Where can I find him?”  was what he asked.

 

Uther steepled his fingers.  “That is the one thing I cannot ascertain.  The one thing I might guess it that if he is as powerful as they say, he is likely the head of that wretched group that attempts to stand against us on a daily basis.  Every time the seers see him, however, all they can tell me is that he is with you.  They cannot say where he is currently hiding nor when you will meet him.  However, a few suggest that you already have.”

 

Already had?  Arthur thought back through every person he’d ever met.  Just how closely was he supposed to know this sorcerer?  Was it the homeless guy in the alley outside his flat?  John from primary school?  Or maybe someone he knew well?  Gwaine?  Leon?  No, it couldn’t be them.  He would _know_.

 

“They’re not even able to give me a timeline for all time.  You may catch him tomorrow, you may catch him next year.  But I felt it important that he be on your radar as soon as possible.”

 

“Thank you, sir.  We will be on the lookout.”

 

“Sorcerers are an endangered species, Arthur.  It is our duty to make them extinct.  Do not disappoint me.”

 

That was about as much as a “good luck; make me proud” as Arthur was likely to get, so he inclined his head and backed out of the office.  Catrina smirked again and raised an eyebrow.  He had no doubt she had been eavesdropping on every word.  Since she had yet to be moved to another side of the building, Arthur had to assume his father simply trusted her to keep her mouth shut.

 

Arthur pulled out his phone as he exited the building: _“Meet @ building 830.”_  His team needed to know this development as soon as possible.  He would drop by the van tonight to let Elyan know to be listening for mentions of Emrys.  He didn’t trust speaking over the phone.

 

They would have to be careful tomorrow, lingering about the building with Merlin home.  Arthur hoped Merlin wasn’t too put off by his hasty exit.  He’d seemed okay with it, but Merlin could be hard to read sometimes.  Arthur would make it up to him, somehow.  Things would be a bit busier now with the search for Emrys on top of watching the building, but Merlin was worth making the time for.

 

 

 

 

The next few weeks seemed to pass in a blur.  Between work and courting Merlin –who was definitely seeming more and more open to the prospect as time went on– Arthur hardly had time to breathe.  Not that he minded, really.  Work took his mind of the fact that Merlin still hadn’t officially agreed to date him, and Merlin took his mind off the fact that the mole still hadn’t told them who the sorcerer in the building was, nor even how to get in without tripping an alarm.

 

They knew there was some kind of alert system.  There was a reason they hadn’t been able to storm the place before, despite knowing at least one target lived within.  Every time someone tried to go in for so much as an ID scan, they found nothing but law abiding citizens.  This was despite Merlin confiding in him that he knew of at least one resident who had been taken in on a get-rich-quick scam.  It perplexed Arthur to no end.  How did they know when someone was coming?

 

Monday dawned bright and early.  Arthur spent his day as a bundle of nerves from the moment he woke up to the moment he went to pick Merlin up from Gwen’s shop.  He was going to do it.  Tonight he was going to make a move towards Merlin that would force the other man to define where they stood.  He was calmed a bit by the fact that Merlin seemed to be in a great mood that day, practically bouncing out to his car.

 

“Good morning?”  he asked as Merlin plopped himself down on the seat.

 

“Good weekend,” Merlin affirmed with a broad smile.

 

_He’d managed to levitate his entire bed last night, fix his father’s old watch that hadn’t worked since he was twelve, and controlled a fire on his nightstand well enough to roast marshmallows on._

 

Arthur grinned back.  “Good to hear.”  They rode in silence for a few minutes.  “So, Merlin.  What do you think of your new place after a month?”

 

“It’s okay so far.  Quiet.  Will says it’s a safe neighbourhood.  Freya’s lived there for ages without a problem, so I guess he’s right.”

 

“Liking your neighbours?”

 

“Don’t really know them that well.  I mean, I’ve met them all, and you know, I’ve talked to a bunch of them when I see them in the halls, and I do odd jobs for some of them sometimes.  But we’re not really… that _close_ , I guess.”  Arthur held back a laugh.  A lovely development over the time they’d known each other was a vast increase in the sheer frivolity with which Merlin spoke.  “I mean, I am with Freya, of course.  She tries to introduce me to the neighbours all the time.  Like her neighbour.  He’s a bit of an odd duck.  Completely obsessed with polishing.”

 

“George.”

 

“Yeah.  How’d you know?”

 

Arthur stuttered.  “Oh, uh…”  _Darn it._   He had come to realize that Freya had never told Merlin about his little visit.  He’d first suspected as much after Merlin didn’t call him to berate him for stalking –why Freya hadn’t reported him as such was still a mystery.

 

Maybe she’d kept quiet because Arthur hadn’t come back.  Or well, not back into the building.  He’d let the others rotate in, this time passing around a picture of a lost dog.  Arthur felt the guild gnaw him again over that.  They’d had to go in at night to hit the flats where the people hadn’t been home the first time.  Even though they’d agreed to skip Merlin’s flat, if he spotted them there it would have raised suspicions.  So Arthur had taken him out to a film.  He hadn’t even been able to enjoy it knowing he was lying about his motivations for the outing.

 

Or half-lying.  Because it was no falsehood that Arthur had completely fallen for the shy man.  Which wasn’t a problem at all, if only he could tell him the truth.

 

It wasn’t like Arthur’d never had a relationship before.  He had, just never had he considered any relationship becoming as serious as he wished the one with Merlin to.  It nearly terrified him to realize he was now.

 

Relationships weren’t forbidden in their line of work, nor were they forbidden from telling their families or significant others a general idea of their job description.  Gwen knew, for example, as did Percival’s wife and Elyan’s longtime girlfriend.  But they hadn’t had to deal with quite so much of the half-truths and outright lies before they were told.  Arthur was purposefully exploiting Merlin’s trust and willingness to leave a topic be when Arthur didn’t want him to push.

 

Not to mention the bug at Freya’s, which after the news about Emrys, Arthur hadn’t called off.  There was a chance –just a small chance, but one he knew he had to take advantage of –that someone might even visit her flat and mention the name, even in passing.  He couldn’t give up any opportunities.

 

“Arthur?”

 

Oh right.  Merlin’s question.  Which he was once again avoiding.  “You’ve told me about him before.”

 

Merlin tipped his head, visibly confused.  It was understandable.  Other than Will and Freya, he never talked about anyone.  “I have?  Huh.  I don’t remember that.”

 

“It was a while ago, and just a brief mention, really,” he replied quickly.  “You probably don’t remember I told you about Gwaine’s housewarming either.”

 

“Nope.”  That was because he hadn’t.  “Good thing I have you around to remind me, eh?”

 

  1.   Seriously despicable.



 

“It’s next weekend.  BYOB.  Gwaine’s probably bought the entire off-license, though, so don’t bother if you don’t want to.  I guess you could bring a few bags of crisps if you wanted.  The party stats at seven.”

 

“I’ll try to be there.”

 

“Try?  You know I’ll pick you up if you want.”  He tried not to sound too disappointed.

 

Merlin shrugged.  “I just, you know, I don’t like to plan too far in advance.  It’s a habit.  Sorry.”

 

“No, it’s… it’s fine.”  It was true, Merlin never accepted an offer to go out for a time more than a few days away.  It was like he only had a three day calendar that couldn’t be flipped until midnight on the last day.  “If something major comes up, just let us know.  But you could… you could plan to be there otherwise?”  Was he really pleading?  Really?

 

“I guess I can do that.  Just don’t be too disappointed if things fall through.  They often do.”

 

Merlin sounded so resigned when he said that it caused Arthur a physical ache.  Although Merlin had become more talkative, the man still hadn’t told him that much about his life.  Arthur longed to know what it was that made him so cynical.  Freya had warned him Merlin was secretive, and her and Will’s distrust seemed to indicate their friend had been burned before.  Arthur just wished he knew how.  Then maybe he wouldn’t keep accidentally stepping on old wounds.

 

He hoped there were no bad memories about the park.  That was where Arthur was taking him tonight.  Gwen had helped him all last night to plan out food and pick out décor to make the whole thing as romantic as possible.  He had candles and a blanket and a deck of cards because Gwen said nice as talking was it was always a good thing to have something to do with your hands.

 

Arthur was hoping his hands would be otherwise occupied tonight, but if things went south, he supposed he’d be grateful for the thought.

 

As the evening wore on, however, Arthur was getting more and more anxious that the latter option would be the one he would be falling back on.  As always Merlin seemed to be holding himself apart, there but not.  Try as he might, Arthur couldn’t get him to connect.  Then Freya’s words drifted unbidden through his mind. _“Don’t hide from him_. _”_

 

Wasn’t that what they all said?  You have to give a little of yourself if you expect to get anything back?

 

“My sister’s name was Morgana.”

 

Merlin blinked at the random outburst.   “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

 

“I don’t.  I mean, not anymore.  She died.”

 

Merlin reached out a hand and laid it on his arm.  Arthur felt the familiar warm fizz that spread through him every time Merlin touched him, calming his nerves.  “I’m sorry for your loss.”  And that was the great thing about him, that he could know nothing  about the situation and he could still be genuinely sorry about it.

 

“She was killed when we were just kids.  Morgana was the one…” he swallowed.  It was hard to talk about even if Merlin did help him just by being there.  “She was the one who I lost because she was protecting me.  She always watched over me when we were younger.  I didn’t do the same, and she died because of it.  She suffered for three years before…  I always wonder what I could have done.  If I might have been able to save her.”

 

“I’m sure she wouldn’t blame you.  You were just a child.  What were you supposed to do?”

 

“I don’t know.  Something.  There must have been something.”

 

Merlin looked thoughtful and a fair bit nervous himself.  He scooted closer on the blanket, looking around as if afraid he’d be overheard despite their being alone.  “Remember I said my father was dead?  That’s not exactly the truth.  He left me and my mother before I was even born.  I always thought that was my fault.  That I _made_ him leave.  Or I would rant and rave at his memory because I was angry at him for abandoning us, even though my mum always said that he was a lovely person.  It wasn’t until I was older that I realized that some things can’t be blamed on one particular person or one particular act.  Or even if they can, what good does getting upset about it do if it’s in the past.  Some things just _are_.  We can’t change them.  We just have to find a way to live with them.”

 

Arthur couldn’t take it anymore.  He surged forward and captured Merlin’s lips with his own, bringing a hand up to cup the back of his neck.  Merlin jumped and squeaked a bit, freezing.  _Please, please don’t panic._ Just when Arthur was about to pull back and apologize profusely, Merlin softened.  He brought his own hand up to touch Arthur’s cheek and increased the pressure between their mouths.   For a long moment it was just that, lips moving against lips.  Finally Arthur knew he needed to check in.

 

Hesitantly he broke contact.  Merlin retreated immediately, looking down at the blanket under them like he hoped it would swallow him up.  He tried to move away, but Arthur tightened his grip on his neck.  “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to pressure –”

 

Merlin stopped him with a hand to the chest.  “And sometimes we just have to find a way to live period.”

 

This time Merlin initiated the kiss, gripping Arthur’s shirt and tugging him closer.  Arthur ran a hand through Merlin’s hair, making the other man’s mouth fall open in a moan.  Arthur took the opportunity to plunge his tongue in, gently exploring Merlin’s mouth, the ridge of his teeth, the sensitive palate, the soft tongue.  Merlin let him, gliding a hand up and down Arthur’s torso.

 

Somewhere in the distance a streetlamp shattered with flying sparks.

 

Arthur moved away from Merlin’s lips to mouth at his jaw, kissing his way down his neck, nipping and sucking at the smooth skin.  Merlin’s head fell back with another groan, and he wrapped both arms around Arthur’s waist, drawing him as close as possible.  Arthur dropped one hand down to brush Merlin’s side, inching it under the light t-shirt.

 

Where it was gripped by strong fingers pulling him away.

 

With what seemed like considerable effort, Merlin pulled back.  His pupils were dilated and he was breathing hard, and Arthur was sure he looked just as wrecked.  But Merlin was shaking his head.  “Not… not now.  Not yet.”

 

“Not… any of it?”  God, he sounded pathetic.  But how could he be expected to refrain from touching Merlin now that he’d been granted the chance?

 

Merlin smiled shakily.  “Some of it,” he agreed.  “A lot of some of it.  But for right now not… _that_.  Please.”

 

As if Arthur could ever think of saying no.  He brushed a hand down Merlin’s cheek and breathed a soft kiss onto his lips.  “I can wait.”

 

Merlin retaliated by diving his tongue forward this time, only breaking apart when they needed a chance to breathe.

 

“Although, Merlin, do you think... do you think I could ask you on an official date now?”

 

Merlin laughed, tiptoeing his fingers up his chest.  “I think I might be offended if you didn’t.”

 

And Arthur was probably still despicable, but at that moment, he couldn’t care a bit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Arthur was fairly sure he was floating on air.  Not even his team’s teasing could bring him down.  He’d kissed Merlin.  He was dating Merlin.

“What, that wasn’t what you were doing before?” Percival asked confused when Arthur announced the new status of their relationship.  “What was it then?”

 

“That was the boss dancing around like a five-year-old pulling pigtails.  I swear, princess, I was getting ready to write your ‘Check Yes or No’ letter myself.”

 

Arthur just ordered them to do the coffee run, and he took a lap around the block.

 

They were almost done this assignment, he could feel it.  They’d chatted up the landlord, talked to neighbours in surrounding buildings, listened to a dozen conversations about what to have for dinner and what antics the pesky family upstairs was up to.  And once they were done, Arthur would have one less secret to hide from Merlin.  Maybe he could tell him what he did, or at least that he worked for the government.  Merlin would be proud of him for fighting to make the world a safer place.  And he was good at keeping secrets; he would never let anything slip and let Arthur come to harm.

 

Yes, he would tell Merlin.  Then maybe Merlin would tell him another one of the secrets he was holding on to.

 

As the days dragged on, he could almost taste the moment getting closer.  The feeling was compounded by Merlin agreeing to a date with him for Sunday on Wednesday, the longest period ahead of time he had ever said yes to.

 

So when Elyan texted him on Saturday night to say they’d been contacted by the mole, Arthur was ready to hire a skywriter just to express how pleased he was.  He ordered the team immediately to the surveillance van so they could be ready to go on as soon as they had the information.

 

“He’s still in the building.  He says he’s got the information for us, all of it.”

 

“Great.  Patch him through the speaker.”  A crackle popped, indicating that the sound had been switched from Elyan’s headphones to the main speaker system.

 

“This is Prince.  Come in.”

 

“Uh, yes.  I’m here.”  The voice sounded familiar, but Arthur supposed that it should after running across most of the building’s residents as least once.  It was definitely a male, and young.  Nervous, too, if the harsh sound of his breathing was any indication.

 

“You say you have what we need?”

 

“I- I do.  Sir.  The building, it’s got a ward around it.  A magic one.  Lets them know who’s coming and going soon as they enter the door so that people can escape if they hafta.”

 

He’d suspected something of the like.  “And how do we get around the ward?”

 

There was a pause.  “I… I can do it.  I can take it down.”

 

A sorcerer.  Their mole was a sorcerer.  Were they always?  But then, hadn’t Uther told him that they utilized their captives in the fight.  It seemed that included hunting down their own.  Appalling what these creatures would stoop to to save their own skins, turning on each other without so much as a thought.

 

“How are we to know you won’t simply tell us it’s been disabled and lead us into a trap?” he demanded.

 

“Because- because I can’t do that, sir.  I can’t let anything happen to you.”

 

Just like Uther’s seers couldn’t lie to him.  Arthur was just going to have to trust his father’s methods if they were going to do this.  And if anything did happen they knew exactly who to blame.

 

“And the target?  You’ve picked out who is it?”  There was a much longer pause this time, and for a moment Arthur wondered if something had happened to the signal.  “Hello?”

 

“I’m sorry, sir, it’s just… I don’t like to do this.”

 

“You sealed your fate as a traitor the moment you sold yourself to the evils of sorcery,” he snapped.  “You will tell me who the target is.”

 

There was a sniffle in the background Arthur had a hard time pitying.  The sorcerer was just playing him, trying to make him think the traitor felt anything about selling out another traitor.  He wasn’t fooled.  Monsters didn’t have feelings.

 

Oh, but unfortunately Arthur did, and as he heard the name crackle over the speakers, he felt every one of them break.

 

 

 

 

Merlin glanced at the clock.  It was already past ten.  He really ought to get some sleep.  Technically since it was Saturday night he didn’t have to work tomorrow, but Arthur had asked him to spend the day with him, and the last thing Merlin wanted was to spend the entire time yawning.

 

He smiled at the thought of having a whole day together with Arthur.  Will, who even now harboured a dislike for the man (to the point of inviting Daegal over several times for dinner with him, Merlin and Freya, and even gloating Merlin the dullard had moved into the building himself), had been annoyed to hear that Merlin had decided to date him.  “He’s a prat, Mer.  A prat of the first order.”  But he was the kindest, gentlest prat Merlin had ever met, so he ignored his friend’s harsh opinion.  And Will hadn’t been there –thank _God_ – when Merlin had stopped Arthur from going where he was absolutely sure Arthur had intended things to go.  It wasn’t that he was opposed to the idea in general, very much _not_ so, but he couldn’t imagine giving over the whole of him to someone who didn’t _know_ the whole him.

 

And whose fault was that?  Merlin’s.  He needed to tell him.  He wanted to tell him.  He was terrified to tell him.  He could live with spending the rest of his life alone because Arthur couldn’t put up with him keeping secrets.  He couldn’t live with Arthur turning him in out of hate or fear of who Merlin was.

 

Especially when Arthur seemed to be the cause of his magic’s increased purring.  That was the only explanation Merlin could come up with, anyway.  It hadn’t started until after they had met, and every time Arthur touched him the  feeling increased.  The outbursts had started after he met Arthur, too.  The exploding light last night… that had _definitely_ been Arthur.  Merlin had reigned himself in after that, but it was like his magic had been so happy it just had to express itself.

 

Merlin understood the feeling.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

 

The phone rang in the other room, but Merlin just shrugged it off.  He wasn’t sure why they even had a landline.  No one ever called them on it but telemarketers, all the important people sticking with cell phones.  Come to think of it, he ought to go out and listen to Will yell at them for ringing so late.  That could be entertaining.

 

Before he could make a decision in that regard, however, Will had hung up and was standing in his doorway.  “Merlin, you have to go.”

 

Merlin’s duffle was thrown at him before he even had time to comprehend Will’s words, his cane nearly impaling him.

 

“What do you mean?  What happened?”  _I can’t go.  I can’t leave everything, not now._

 

“They’re here.  _Here_ , Merlin.  They’re coming in the building!”

 

“I thought you said this place was safe!”

 

“It is!  It was!  I don’t know how they did it, but _you have to go_.  Grab Freya and _run_.”

 

“What about you?”  It was one thing for Merlin to leave his best friend to fend for himself time and again.  It was another take Freya with him.

 

“Don’t worry about me.  This is just like every other time, Mer.  Okay?  Just go hide, and we’ll figure it out in the morning.”  Merlin still hesitated.  “ _Go!_ ”

 

Merlin went sprinting down the stairs without even bothering to pretend with his cane.  He ran straight to Freya’s flat.  They would go out the window, down the ladder.  His mind was in such turmoil he didn’t even notice the door was already open as he barrelled inside.  “Frey?  Come on, we’ve gotta–”

 

His words were cut off by a slap to the face.  Not a literal one, but it may as well have been for all the pain he suddenly felt.

 

Freya was backed up against the wall in the corner of her living room, glaring with cricket bat in hand.

 

Boxing her into that corner was Arthur.

 

He and the two other with him –Percival and Leon –stared at him, mouths agape.  Their weapons lowered in surprise as their grips went slack.  If guilt were currency, they could have bought the city, but Merlin saw none of it.  He saw only that they were here, with guns, to take Freya away.  In all the times he’d imagined how this would go, Merlin never thought it could be this terrible.

 

“Merlin, please go.”

 

That was Freya, whose terror seemed to grow tenfold over her anger at the sight of him.

 

“You need to leave now.”

 

That was the second time tonight he’d been told that.  But unlike last time he knew he couldn’t possibly obey.  He shook his head.

 

“Listen to her, Merlin,” Percival said softly.

 

Merlin found his voice.  These were his… they had been his… friends.  They had to listen to him.  “You have to let her go.  She’s never hurt anyone, I swear.”

 

“She’s a sorcerer, Merlin,” Leon corrected, his eyes pitying, but not for Freya’s benefit.  “You can’t trust them.”

 

“Merlin didn’t know.  Neither did Will,” Freya said quickly.  “I never told them.  Don’t punish them on my behalf.”

 

“Stop it, Freya.”  She wasn’t even bothering to deny the charges in her effort to protect them.  “Please, I’m telling you she’s harmless.”

 

“That cricket bat says otherwise.”

 

“You’re here to take me to my death,” Freya snapped.  “What did you expect, a tray of biscuits?  Shall I make you some tea?”

 

“Don’t put up a fight, and we’ll take you in peacefully.”  Leon glanced at Merlin.  “As a favour.”

 

“Oh, I’m supposed to consider _that_ a favour?  No thanks.  I’d rather be asleep when you give me the chair.  Or is it to be a good old fashioned hanging?”

 

“Merlin,” Percival’s quiet voice brought his attention back to the large man.  “Merlin, if you turn around and leave right now, we can pretend like this never happened.  We’ll forget you were ever here, I promise.  .”

 

Merlin faced Arthur, who hadn’t said a word throughout the exchange.  Who couldn’t stop staring at him.  His eyes shone with unshed tears.  But no matter how bad he felt, it couldn’t be a quarter of what Merlin felt.  Nor how he was about to feel.

 

“I’m sorry,” he replied, not taking his eyes off Arthur.  He was sorry, he was so, so sorry.  “But I can’t ever forget you were here.”

 

He shakily raised a hand.  Everything around him seemed to freeze, in a much different way than when he saved Gwen.  There was no magic in it this time.  The only one to move was Freya, who immediately cried, “No, Merlin, don–” but it was too late.

 

Merlin _pushed_ , and the three men went flying backwards, heads colliding with walls and furniture, knocking them out cold.

 

He lowered his hand, and his head as well, emotional exhaustion no longer allowing him to support it any longer.  “Come on, Freya.”

 

She stepped carefully over the bodies of the fallen men.  “Oh, Merlin.  What have you done?”

 

He lifted his gaze to stonily meet hers.  “Protected someone else for a change.”  He hefted his bag over his shoulder but tossed the cane aside.  He wouldn’t need it anymore.  It would only slow him down.  “Let’s go.”

 

“Go where?”

 

“I don’t know.  But there are more of them coming.”  Gwaine.  Elyan.  Lancelot.  “They’ll be on their way up here as soon as they realize something went wrong, if they don’t know already.  We need to vanish before they do.”

 

“I’m sorry, Merlin.  This is all my fault.”

 

“No it isn’t.”  His voice grew hard as he glanced at Arthur, sprawled across the recliner.  “It’s theirs.”

 

Merlin took her hand, squeezing in what he hoped was comfort.  Then he led her out onto the fire escape and down into the night.  With his free hand he pulled out his mobile and sent a text to Will.

 

**From: Merlin**

_Sandbox_

 

 

He was dreaming.

 

At least, that was what Arthur was pretty sure had happened, because there was no way that in a logical, rule-abiding world that he had witnessed what he thought he did.

 

  1.   Here.  Seeing him about to arrest his friend.  Attacking him and running away with her.  Attacking him with _magic_.



 

Merlin had magic.  Merlin.  Had magic.  Merlin.  Had.  Magic.

 

The more he ran it through his mind, the more Arthur was convinced that the whole thing had just been a mass hallucination.  When he woke up in the morning, he would go to Merlin’s flat, and Merlin would be there, and they would spend a magic free day at the zoo. Because they didn’t have magic, either of them.

 

Except Merlin did.

 

They had retreated to Leon’s house.  There was no way they could go back to the facility and admit to Aredian they failed.  Not only to capture their target but they’d let another sorcerer take her away.

 

 

Arthur just didn’t know what to do.  He felt angry and disappointed and confused all at the same time.  It just… It was _Merlin_.

 

Somewhere around him Leon was explaining to the others what had happened to led to them finding the three men passed out on the floor.  They all kept giving Arthur pitying looks that were steadily driving him mad.  He didn’t want their pity.  He just wanted things to make sense again.

 

“So what now?”  Lancelot voiced the question that was on all their minds.

 

“We go after them?”  Leon sighed.  “We have to, don’t we?”

 

“We can’t go after Merlin!  He’s… he’s Knight X!” Gwaine protested, sending another _look_ at Arthur.

 

“Not anymore,” Leon shook his head.  “We can’t think of him as our friend right now, Gwaine.  It’s just another job with another target.”

 

Arthur envied Leon’s ability to keep his mind on the task at hand.  But he couldn’t agree that this was just another job.  Merlin had made it so much more personal than that.

 

It was like losing Morgana all over again.  Why did magic insist on stealing away everyone he loved?  What had he ever done to deserve this?  The worst part was this time there had been no signs, nothing to indicate sorcery had worked its way into Merlin’s soul to steal him away.  Had Freya done it right there in that room, forcing Merlin’s hand to turn against them?  Arthur had had three years to save Morgana; he hadn’t had any time at all to save Merlin.

 

“Leon’s right,” Arthur said finally.  Everyone turned to look at him.  “We have to go after them.”

 

“But Merlin–”

 

“Whatever’s been done is done,” he snapped, cutting Gwaine off.  “We can’t change whatever spell Freya put on Merlin.  But we can stop her from doing it again, consequences be damned.”  _And I’ll just have to find a way to live with them._

 

“You think he wasn’t acting of his own free will?”

 

“Do you?  I know Merlin.  I know magic.  It can latch on even the kindest people without them even knowing it’s happening.  Merlin’s not evil.  He wouldn’t choose this, not willingly.”

 

Arthur glared at his team, daring them to contradict him.  But either they agreed or none of them dared voice a contrary opinion.

 

“First things first then,” Elyan finally said slowly.  “We need to figure out where they’ve gone.”

 

“How do we do that?  They could be anywhere.”

 

“How do you do anything?  Learn about your enemy.  And the best way to learn is technology.”  Elyan pulled out his laptop.  “We can see if Freya’s ID brings up any usual haunts.”

 

Arthur let Elyan search, pulling himself off to another room to wait and get his head in order.  Unfortunately he didn’t even know where to start.  All the pertinent facts seemed to have already repeated themselves far more than he wanted to contemplate.

 

“Arthur?  You okay?”

 

Lancelot came up hesitantly beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.  With any of the other men it might have been awkward, but that was just how Lance was.

 

“No?”  What point was there in lying?

 

“Right.  Of course you’re not.  I mean, none of us expected that.”

 

“But I should have, right?  I should have seen something, in Merlin, in Freya.  I spent the most time with him.”

 

“What did you expect to see?  Them committing animal sacrifices and eating small children for dinner?”

 

“No, of course not.  But there had to have been some kind of sign.  Something to indicate the evil that had taken over.”  Morgana had had the nightmares.  Arthur should have known then too, and he had let it go.  He let Merlin go.

 

“Maybe the problem is it’s not as cut and dry as you think.”

 

“Did you have a reason for coming over here,” Arthur snapped, “or did you just want to throw out defences for sorcerers?”

 

“I wasn’t…” he sighed.  “I just wanted to ask.  In the flat, there was a cane.  That was Merlin’s, right?”

 

Yes, Merlin had come running in there with his cane.  Running, not a trace of a limp.  So he had been corrupted before the attack.  Arthur slumped further.  Then another image prompted at him.  “He… he had a bag, too.  He’d intended to run before he even knew we were there.”  Freya had been surprised that they had shown up.  Merlin had only seemed surprised that _they_ had shown up.

 

“He was running, but he stopped at Freya’s flat?  Why?”

 

 _He was protecting her._   “I don’t know.”

 

“And Perce said she was fending you off with a cricket bat?  Why not magic, if she was powerful enough to even hand some over for Merlin to use?”

 

 _She didn’t want to hurt us._   “ _I don’t know_.  Would you please, just… stop?”  He was getting a headache.

 

“I know this is hard for you, Arthur, especially after…  Just… think about it.  That’s all I ask.”

 

“Uh, guys?  You might want to come see this.”

 

Elyan’s strained voice carried into their little room.  The pair made their way back to the others.

 

“What is it?  Did you find where they might be hiding?”

 

“Not exactly,” Elyan hedged.  “I mean, I found a couple suggestions in Freya’s file –childhood home, work friends, etc. –but it’s not Freya that’s pulled up something interesting.”

 

“Merlin?”  Arthur’s heart pounded harder.  “What did you find on him?”

 

“Well, it seems, I mean, it’s possible the data is wrong, it’s just not probably, you see, but I guess it must be–”

 

“ _What is it?_ ” he repeated, voice low and dangerous.

 

“Merlin doesn’t exist,” Gwaine finished bluntly.  “Merlin Emerson is dead.”

 

Merlin was dead?  But he couldn’t– Arthur had only just–  “Obviously you did something wrong.  There’s no way the system knows about it when he’s only been missing a few hours.”

 

“No, not _our_ Merlin.  I mean the identity of Merlin Emerson.  A person who died ages ago.  Whoever our Merlin is, he’s not.”

 

Merlin wasn’t Merlin?  Was this night just _trying_ to give him an aneurism?  First Merlin had magic, now he didn’t exist?

 

“I checked three times.  There is no other Merlin Emerson on file.  There’s only two other Merlin’s period, and both are geriatrics.  Which means that can’t be his name.  Merlin, or whatever he’s called, lied.”

 

Of course he did.  Because he couldn’t just leave it be so Arthur could accept this as just another poor soul being lost to corrupting magic.  He had to corrupt himself.  Then he made Lancelot whisper contradictory things in his ear to confuse him further.

 

“What do we do now then?  A trace on the people on his lease?”

 

“Will’s the only one who signed it.  At any of the places they lived at.”

 

“Any?”

 

“They’ve been in seven.  Always moved with the excuse that the place they were just in had suspected or convicted sorcerers and they didn’t want to be near it.”

 

“Ironic since it seems Merlin was the sorcerer he was running from,” Gwaine snorted.

 

“They were careful.  Merlin’s name isn’t on anything.  Leases, contracts, nothing.  And we all know he didn’t have a job ‘til Gwen.”

 

“Who didn’t ask for ID because he didn’t want to be paid,” Arthur groaned.  “What about the bug in Freya’s place?  Have you heard anything off that?”

 

Elyan coloured and looked down.  “Well, you see, I didn’t say anything before because it didn’t seem relevant, but now that we know about Merlin…”

 

“Get on with it.”

 

“It’s just the clip, well, it mentions you.”

 

Arthur groaned again.  Of course it did.  “Play it.”

 

“But–”

 

“ _Play.  It._ ”

 

Elyan fiddled with his laptop for a minute, then sound filled the room.

 

_“Rough day?”_

_“You might say that.”  There was a groan of relief and the creak of couch springs like someone sitting down.  “Just be glad you only have to deal with Merlin every once in a while and don’t have to live with him.”_

_“Oh, come on.  I’m sure it’s not that bad.”_

_“It is.  He’s still mooning over that Arthur fellow, the bloke from the club.”_

“This was where I stopped listening the first time,” Elyan murmured.  “I don’t know what else there is.”

 

_“He was here, you know.  He came to visit.”_

_“He what?”_

_“Earlier today.  It was him and another fellow.  Said they wanted to move in and wanted to know what the building was like.  I told them there was no room at the inn.”_

_“I don’t like this.”  Footsteps pacing.  “He’s being careless.  He got a job today, did you know that?  Working with another one of that club lot.”_

_“Merlin’s not a fool.  He won’t do anything to put you or himself in danger.”_

_“Not a fool?  He doesn’t know enough to tell what is and isn’t foolish!  But will he listen to me: no!  Just swans off and jumps voluntarily into the frying pan!  You’d think he wanted to be caught!”_

_“Of course he doesn’t, love.  None of us do.”  A long pause.  “But you can’t expect him to stay hidden away for the rest of his life with only me and you for company.”_

_“I bloody well can!  I’m not saying I want him to.  I’m the one who encouraged him to stop being a big girl’s blouse about the whole thing and get back out there.  But I didn’t expect him to be such a stubborn idiot about it!”_

_“Merlin was made for so much more than this, Will.  You’ve heard the whispers, surely.”_

_“All I’ve heard are a bunch of shadows in want of a fire.  Merlin’s not a fire.  It’s not fair of everyone to keep asking that of him.”_

_“And it’s not fair of you to ask nothing of him.”_

The conversation dissolved from there, Will promising he would try to do better and Freya laughing that she would believe it when she saw it.

 

It was the confirmation Arthur needed.  Merlin definitely had had magic before Freya.  Magic he was supposed to be hiding, but was apparently failing.  And it was Arthur’s fault he’d failed.

 

 

 

 

‘Well, we’ve learned one thing from this at least,” he said finally, ignoring the return of the pity faces.  “We know now where we need to go next for information.”

 

It was a good thing Merlin had broken down and secretly given him a spare key, now wasn’t it?

 

 

 

 

“I’m not telling you where they are, so you can walk right back out of here the same way you broke in.”

 

Will sat alone in an armchair in his dark flat.  He had no book, no music or telly.  He was just sitting there, with not even a whiskey bottle for company.  Arthur wondered for a brief moment if this was some kind of spell, that the absence of one man –for Will a man and a woman– could bring all of life grinding to a dazed halt.

 

Will glared as Arthur ignored his hostility and sat down in the chair across from him.  “Good thing I’m not here to ask that then, isn’t it?”

 

“And it’s a good thing for you that Merlin never let me keep weapons around the flat, don’t you think?”

 

Arthur snorted.  “Why don’t you take a page from your girlfriend’s book and come after me with a cricket bat?” he snapped.

 

Will grinned smugly.  “That’s my girl.  I’d like to say I taught her well, but she could take care of herself long before we met.”

 

“I’m not here about Freya, either.”

 

“So what _do_ you want, du Bois, if not to apologize for attempting to take my girlfriend and my best friends to their deaths, forcing them into hiding even from me?”

 

Arthur grimaced in annoyance.  This wasn’t getting them anywhere.  He should have known better than to think Will would give him a straight answer after everything that had happened.  He _had_ expected the probably unintended revelation that Will hadn’t been informed about the pair’s hiding place.  Everything else may have been a lie, but their protective feelings towards gruff young man hadn’t felt that way.

 

“At this moment, I don’t care where he is.  I just want to know who he is.”

 

Will scowled.  “What are you on about?”

 

“There’s no point in pretending you don’t know.  We did some research.  Merlin Emerson died nearly twenty years ago.  It’s a stolen identity, but one he could have never gotten officially authorized, and he didn’t.  But life without an ID would have been next to impossible without help.  Your help.  You knew, about everything.  I could have you arrested for that, you know.”  It was a conclusion he’d been able to come to over the last few hours, aided by the bugged conversation he had no intention of ever telling Will about.

 

The young man stared at him for a minute, face unreadable.  Then he burst into hysterical laughter.  Arthur watched, unsure how to react to that, until he reined himself back in.

 

“You did research, did you?  Exactly how in depth was this _research_?  Did you bother to look at anything beyond the words ‘deceased?’  Like, I don’t know, how old he was when he died?  Because I know: he was three.  Which means today he would be near twenty-three, just like someone else we both know.”

 

“I give him credit for a cleverly crafted dis–”

 

“Where you there when he died?”  Will continued loudly, overriding Arthur’s rebuttal.  “I was.  Maybe not _there-_ there, but before and after.  Was playing around and fell into the wood stove, burned himself to a crisp.   Which meant no body to display for the funeral, convenient that, eh?  And of course everyone felt too badly for his mother to question the fact that it was the middle of summer and the stove shouldn’t have even been lit.

 

“He was like my little brother, Merlin was.  A pesky, always around when you didn’t want him, kid.  But hey, I was four years older and wiser, so he looked up to me, I guess.  When my mum told me he was dead it broke my heart.  He was just a baby, after all.”

 

Arthur didn’t say anything.  So Will knew the person “Merlin” stole his identity from.  It didn’t mean anything.  If anything it just made the whole thing worse, that he would dishonour his friend’s memory by giving his name to a sorcerer.

 

“About a month after the funeral, I thought saw something in the windows next door.  I was convinced it was Merlin, and I told my mum he’d come back to life.  I kept insisting, and landed myself in therapy.  They thought it was just grief and a young mind, see.  After a while I started to believe them, and everything eventually went back to normal.  Until four years ago.”

 

Four years.  So that was how long he’d been masquerading as a normal citizen.  Arthur made a mental note to have Elyan check out who had vanished off the charts back then.

 

“I was home from uni for my birthday.  My mum threw this big do, more celebrating me being home than anything.  It was spring, so we were all outside.  We hadn’t moved, so Merlin’s house was right there, reminding me that he should have been out there with me.  When I saw it, there in the window, I thought it was nostalgia.  The same grief problem from when I was little.  But it wasn’t.”

 

Arthur was starting to not like this story.  Well, he hadn’t really appreciated any of it, but this part in particular had him on edge.

 

“I shouldn’t have gone over there.  If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be in this mess now.  Or at least it might be less of one.  But I did.  Because I couldn’t let it go.  I went over and I told Hunith what I saw.  And to my great surprise, she told me I wasn’t wrong.  Merlin was alive.”

 

His mind had gone blank in the best protection he could give it against the onslaught of questions and feelings he would have been battling otherwise.

 

Will leaned forward now, his conversational tone gone, replaced by scorn again.  “See, she had decided long ago that she would rather see her boy be killed figuratively than killed literally.  It was the only way she could think of to save his life.  And if you dare even _think_ of going after Hunith for knowingly harbouring a sorcerer, you’re going to wish it was Freya beating you to a pulp with a cricket bat.

 

“Because you don’t get to judge this.  You may have looked him up, may have spent a few weeks with him, but you don’t know anything about him.  You weren’t there when he threw up the first time I forced him to go outside.  You weren’t there when he spent every night of his first weeks out of hiding crying himself to sleep because he was afraid of being caught and his mum and I going down just for knowing him.  You haven’t been here when he’s gone into a depression just from someone looking at him funny.  And you haven’t a clue how he feels now after finding out the first friends he’s ever made want him dead.

 

“He was three years old.  What evil exactly did you expect a three year old to commit?  He didn’t have a choice in the matter; he was just born with it.  Merlin didn’t even know what the word ‘magic’ meant, and he was being condemned for having it.”

 

Merlin was Merlin.  He hadn’t lied.  Merlin was also magic, and he had lied about that.  But from so young?  It couldn’t be possible.

 

“He’s not three now.  Merlin condemned himself when he made the choice to use continue to use sorcery and to use it against us.”

 

Now it was Will’s turn to be startled.  “What are you talking about?  Merlin can’t attack anyone.  He hasn’t so much as done a card trick since he was, like, _eight_.”

 

“Yet he did,” Arthur smirked, pleased to have the upper hand back, if only for a moment.  “Sent me and my men flying, with much more force than an unpractised toddler.  I know that because _I was there_.”

 

“Maybe he decided he needed a defence mechanism from people like you!”  Will leapt to his feet, and Arthur stiffened in anticipation of an attack.  “You took everything from him.  He could have had a normal life, but no, you and your stupid laws and prejudices destroyed that.  So instead, Merlin grew up too fast and not at all.

 

“If anything like this happened, I was supposed to pretend I’d never met him, at most he was some bum I let sleep on my couch.  But that was Merlin’s decision, not mine.  And I’m telling you that I will do whatever I have to in order to ensure you never lay a hand on him or Freya.”

 

Arthur sighed and sank further into his chair.  Why did everyone have to make his job so easy and so hard at the same time?  “You realize,” he said softly, “that you’re telling me all I have to do is take you hostage and they’ll come running.”

 

“And if they take that kind of bait I’ll kill them myself,” Will declared.  He held out his hands, eyes narrowed decisively.  “So, do you have cuffs or should I fetch you some gaffer tape from the closet?”

 

“I didn’t come to arrest you, Will.”

 

The proffered hands dropped slightly.  “You what?”

 

“Don’t you think if I was going to do that, I would have already?”  Arthur was tired, so tired.  “Like I said, it was obvious you knew about Merlin.  But I can’t turn you in.”

 

“Why not?”  Oddly, Will actually looked rather angry about the idea.

 

“Because we’re not after Merlin.”

 

“And I’ll repeat: _what?_ ”

 

Arthur stared down at his lap and mumbled, “The department doesn’t know about him yet.  We never reported him as being there when we went to take Freya.  His ID can’t be flagged because he doesn’t have one.  As far as anyone else is concerned, he still doesn’t exist.”  The team had made the decision after twenty minutes of debate.  Arthur hadn’t stuck around for the others going to see Aredian.  Let the man think him a coward, but Arthur knew this was more important.

 

Will eyed him suspiciously.  “And why would you do that?  He’s a terrible, evil sorcerer, remember?”

 

“Because… because the only reason we found that out was because he defended Freya.  And I can’t… I don’t understand why he would do that.”  The only reason they had attacked Freya was because another sorcerer had sold her out.  Because that’s what sorcerers did.

 

“You don’t understand why he would save a friend?” Will sneered.  “Clearly you aren’t that bright, are you, du Bois?”

 

“He’s a sorcerer.  They can’t– they aren’t–”

 

“And that’s your problem.  The instant you found out he had magic, you stopped seeing him as a person.  Just look at your name: the National Association Against Magical _Creatures_.  Lack of magic doesn’t make you a saint.  Clearly.  And having magic doesn’t turn you into an unfeeling monster.

 

“Now, if you’re done insulting my family and you’re not going to arrest me, I’d like to politely ask you to get the _hell_ out of my house.”

 

Arthur stood.  He felt like none of his questions that really mattered had been answered, and he’d been left with even more.  “Just… one more thing.  If you hear from him… tell him I’m sorry.”

 

“Yeah, I don’t think _‘sorry’_ is going to cut it this time.”

 

And Will slammed the door in his face.

 

 

 

 

 

It didn’t matter how many times Merlin went on the run, every time felt like the first time.  All the fear, all the panic, it never went away, pounding through his veins with more power than adrenaline.

 

This time there was something overshadowing all of that, though, an immense hurt that if he stopped to consider it for even a moment threatened to overwhelm him entirely.

 

So he didn’t.  Merlin just ran, dodging through alleyways and ducking behind buildings with Freya in tow.  They had to get as far away as possible before the whole of the government was after them.  They had no destination.  Where could they possibly go?  The pub or the club weren’t safe, they was far too open with no good escape holes.  And Merlin’s usual spot of Freya’s flat was an obvious no.  So where?

 

He didn’t realize they’d gone to Gwen’s shop until they were standing outside the back door, magicking it open.  They huddled in the dark back room, catching breath that had long since escaped at least Merlin’s lungs with no hope of ever returning.

 

“Are you sure it’s safe here?  Don’t they know this place?”

 

“It’s closed tomorrow, so no one will be here ‘til Monday, which means we have a little time to think about a new place to go.  Besides, they won’t expect me to be so stupid that I go to some place familiar to them too.”

 

 _But they did think me quite stupid._   And he was.  How could he never have asked what Arthur did for a living?  How could he have never thought what kind of job allowed Arthur such flexible working hours?  Why didn’t he suspect when Arthur came into his life so forcefully after Merlin first moved?

 

Why did Arthur have to go and break his heart?

 

He couldn’t even hold onto his anger over the situation.  It wasn’t Arthur’s fault Merlin had been fooled.  Arthur had never actually lied to him.  Even in the end he was only doing his job, nothing personal.  It was Merlin’s own stupid fault for thinking that for the first time in forever he’d met someone he could trust.  But there was no trusting anyone.  Merlin should know that by now.

 

“I’m sorry, Merlin,” Freya wrapped him in a hug.  “I know you cared about them.”

 

“But you didn’t.  You knew better, you and Will both.  You knew something was off about them, and I just didn’t listen.”

 

“You were in love.  We all do stupid things when we’re in love.”

 

Merlin snorted.  He hadn’t been in _love_.  He’d been enamoured by the prospect of a normal life.  Arthur just happened to be the one to facilitate his needs.  A mutually beneficial relationship, that was all it had ever been.

 

Or so he was going to keep telling himself until the pain went away.

 

Freya could see that he didn’t want to talk about it, so she made herself busy making plans, throwing out places they could hide out.  Most of them were out in the country, places it would take days to reach on foot.  They had a little money thanks to Merlin’s stash of paper, but it would soon run out, especially with two of them using it.  It would be risky to go into public areas to purchase food, too.  Their pictures were likely to be already on the telly advertising them as escaped sorcerers.

 

But Merlin couldn’t bring himself to regret what he’d done.  If not for revealing his own magic, Freya would have died.  He never would have been able to live with himself if he’d allowed that to happen.  The deal Percival had offered him never could have been.  While they might have kept their word and not convicted him for being associated with Freya, there was no way he could ever forget that they had been the ones to take her to her death.

 

He had been so hoping… But it was foolish.  A child’s dream.

 

Merlin’s mobile buzzed.  He needed to turn it off.  There was no telling if Arthur and his team could use it to track them.  But it could be Will.  Merlin’s heart broke again over the thought of Will, abandoned and alone, having to pretend the pair meant nothing to him, even when Arthur, at least, knew better.  Merlin hoped his best friend was okay.

 

It was from Gwen.

 

**From: Gwen**

_I know what happened.  Stay hidden.  I’m going to help you._

 

Uh, what?

 

Merlin checked that the number matched up with the one he knew to be Gwen’s.  It did.  Then this had to be a trick.  A trick to make him reveal this location.  What made them think that he would trust anyone associated with Arthur ever again?

 

**From: Gwen**

_I know you have no reason to trust me.  Please believe I don’t want to hurt you._

 

Yeah, like Merlin was going to believe that.

 

**From: Gwen**

_I have a safehouse for you if you can trust me.  Please text me back._

“She says she has a place for us to go.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Gwen,” he replied hollowly.  “She wants us to trust her.”

 

“Isn’t this the fiancée of one of the men who wants to kill us?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Why would she help us?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Where is this place?”

 

“Don’t know that either.”

 

“Well, _ask_ , Merlin.  If anything we’ll at least know where _not_ to hide.  She’ll find us here anyway if we stay.”

 

Merlin fumbled back a message.

 

**From: Merlin**

_where?_

**From: Gwen**

_The market on Green Avenue.  If you go in the back there’s a hidden entrance behind the dumpster.  Knock four times and tell them I sent you._

 

That was the place Merlin had always gone for milk.  Well, that place had never been on the list of possibilities anyway, so no loss there.

**From: Merlin**

_can’t trust you.  srry._

 

His mobile buzzed again, but this time it didn’t stop, indicating a call.

 

“Should I–?”

 

“Can’t hurt, I suppose.”  Freya looked nervously at the ringing mobile anyway.  “If they were going to track us, they can do it whether you’re on the phone or not.”

 

Hands shaking, Merlin pressed the “Accept Call” button.

 

“Merlin?  Please, Merlin, I know you have no reason to believe me, but I’m on your side, I promise.  I’m so sorry about what happened.  I’m sure you’re hurt and confused right now, but I only want to help.  The place I mentioned is a safe place for… people like you.  They’ll take you in, give you supplies, somewhere to go next.”

 

“Why should I listen to you?  Won’t you just turn around and tell… tell the others, if you haven’t already?  I’ve had enough traps, thank you.”

 

“It’s not a trap, I swear!  I would never–  Please, is there anything I can do to make you trust me?”

 

Merlin thought about it.  “Probably not,” he answered softly.

 

“Oh, Merlin… this is wrong, so wrong what happened.  I swear, we didn’t know it was Freya they were going after, not until it was too late!”

 

Merlin’s breath hitched.  “We?”

 

“Lance and I.  We… he tells me when a raid is happening, and I tell the people who can stop anyone getting hurt.”

 

“Right.  Because I’ve seen so many sorcerers being saved.”

 

“They don’t all go, I admit.  Some are too resigned to their fate, others are tired of running, others are too angry and stay for a last chance at revenge.  But we do help!”

 

“I’m hanging up now, Gwen.”  He couldn’t put up with much more of this.

 

“No, wait!  Fine, you want proof?  Sefa.  Sefa’s one too.  She knows I know because we saved her father from a raid, that’s why she leaves at lunch every day, because he’s in hiding and she brings him food.  She told me…” Gwen trailed off, and when she continued her voice was much shakier, barely a whisper.  “She told me that you stopped time around me to save me when I was falling.  I didn’t believe her, but she swore it was the truth and she saw it with her own eyes.  So I’ve known about you for a long while and I never told anyone.  Not even Lance.”

 

Merlin froze.  There was no way Gwen could know that, not unless he’d been seen.  But if he’d been seen, he would have been turned in a month ago.

 

“Merlin?  Are you still there?  I’m telling you the truth, Merlin, please.”

 

He swallowed the lump in his throat.  “O-okay.  I believe you.”

 

“You do!  Thank you, _thank you_!  I want to tell people now, though, Merlin, if you’ll let me.  If I tell Arthur and the others how you saved my life, they’ll change their minds, I know they will!”

 

“No, please, Gwen, don’t.”  He didn’t care if they changed their minds.  They had still betrayed him.  Besides, it wasn’t absolution he wanted from Arthur.  It was acceptance.  “It… it doesn’t matter anymore.”

 

“Oh, Merlin…” Why did they all have to sound so pitying?  He was the one who screwed up here.  “I’ll call my friends and tell them to be waiting for you?”

 

Merlin looked at Freya.  She stared back at him with determination and nodded, like she’d read the question in his mind.  “Yeah.  Yeah, okay, we’ll be there.”

 

“Excellent.  The corner market on Green.  Four knocks, don’t forget.  And Merlin…”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“It does matter.  Lance has told me what happened since you left and… it does matter.”

 

Merlin hung up.

 

 

 

The street was mostly dark when they crept up to the market, only a few streetlights lighting the way and the occasional car rumbling past.  Merlin and Freya slipped around to the back of the building.  Merlin had never been back here before, never had the need.  The dumpster was a foot away from the wall, just barely enough room for them to crawl behind.  The door wasn’t so much a door as poorly concealed hole in the wall.  Merlin raised his fist and knocked four times as instructed.

 

Almost immediately the hole opened and a hand was dragging him in.  The room was far too dark to actually see anything.  He followed the tug of the shadow as it led them down a set of stairs, keeping his hand in Freya’s.  His heart pounded in fear.  Merlin may have decided to trust Gwen, but that didn’t mean this wasn’t still a trap.  He had decided to trust Arthur, too, after all.

 

“So, you’ve finally gone and gotten yourself caught, eh?”

 

Merlin jumped at Forridel’s voice.  Caught?  Oh no, he’d _known_ this was a bad idea.

 

Forridel lit a few torches, placing them around the room to illuminate the place.  Then she turned back to them and crossed her arms.  “I always knew you’d manage it one day.  Did you really think you were fooling anyone with that cane?  There’s water there on the shelf.  Drink up.”

 

Merlin’s mind tumbled for who know what time that night.  “You… you _knew_?”  Sweet turnips, just how many people had figured it out before now?  Forridel, Sefa, Gwen.  He was lucky he hadn’t been killed ages ago.  Freya saw his panic and forced a glass into his hands, pouring the cool liquid down his throat to calm him.

 

“Of course I knew,” Forridel scoffed.  “You think I’m so stupid I couldn’t recognize Emrys when he walks in front of my face?”

 

“Emrys?”  Mordred, the odd little kid on the first floor, called him Emrys.  But it was just a nickname, nothing more, a play on his last name.

 

“Oh yes, our great saviour.  Not looking so great now, are you?  Personally I never thought you looked that great before, but hey, I didn’t write the prophecy.  Now, I know you just got here, but we have to talk future.  We have an ID ready for a woman, so you’re all set –Freya, is it? –but as for _you_ , I haven’t got one for you.”

 

Freya tightened her grip on his hand.  “That’s fine.  I’ll wait with him.”

 

“Actually, know you won’t.  I told Gwen we’d put you up for the night, but the truth is I don’t like having Emrys lurking here.  His magic attracts too much attention.”

 

“I hid for years without–”

 

“And I’m sure you’ll hide for many more,” Forridel sneered sarcastically.  “Wasting away in the shadows while everyone else does the fighting.”

 

“I’m not– I haven’t–”

 

“All the prophets agree, your time is coming, yet you want to scurry back in your hole and forget about your people.  Yes, I can see why destiny chose _you_.”

 

“What are you even on about?” Merlin demanded angrily.  He felt dizzy, from rage or shock, he didn’t know.

 

“Emrys,” Freya said quietly, startling him.  “The one who will free magic.”

 

“What, and you think that’s _me_?”

 

“We _know_ that’s you,” Forridel corrected with an eye roll.  “Although I may have my personal doubts, even I can’t deny reality.  Not like _some_ people have had the luxury of.  At least now I know why you haven’t bucked up and done it already.  It’s not fear, like I thought.  You just couldn’t get past your immense ignorance.”

 

“I can’t save everyone!  What exactly do you expect me to do?”  Merlin barely had enough control over his magic to keep conjured fires from burning wood.  He was no saviour.  He didn’t want to be their saviour.  He downed his glass of water, only half-hoping it would be enough to drown him.

 

“You don’t get a choice in that, idiot.  Unfortunately neither do we.  You _will_ do it, because it has already been Seen.  You can’t change the future.  No matter how much I would like to.”

 

He was getting more and more dizzy.  Yes, it was definitely the shock.  The adrenaline of the night wearing off.  Merlin breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself enough to still the rocking of his body.

 

“Merlin?”  Freya’s voice sounded distant, overpowered by the ringing in his ears.  “Merlin, are you alright?  Merlin!?”

 

There was some kind of scuffle around him, then he was being lifted up and carried.  “I am sorry, Emrys.  I promise, your friend will be safe.  I can’t change the future.  But I can try to move it along a bit.”

 

Then the world went dark.

 

 

 

Merlin woke up to bright light.  He bolted upright, his trajectory brought up short by restraints holding him down to some kind of bed at the wrists and ankles.  No, no, this couldn’t be happening.  He was supposed to be safe.  Gwen had promised he would be safe at Forridel’s.  Clearly she hadn’t known about her treacherous nature.  What about Freya?  He vaguely remembered a voice telling him Freya wouldn’t be harmed, but how could he trust anything more?

 

Merlin tugged as hard as he could, threw spell after spell at the loops around his body, but the restraints held.

 

“You won’t get them off.  They’re enchanted.  Believe me, I tried.”

 

Merlin’s gaze shot up.  He was in some kind of large white room, the only furniture two beds, a nightstand each, and a small table with two chairs, littered with pieces of paper and a few dozen crayons.  On the other bed a woman with sat cross-legged, observing him curiously.  She looked far too thin, yet her long, dark hair seemed well-kempt, and she even wore makeup.  She, too, wore restraints, but hers were only around her wrists, and didn’t chain her down to anything.

 

“Who are you?”

 

“Your new roommate.  Although I suppose you could say you’re _my_ new roommate, since I was here first.  I hope you don’t mind I got the good mattress.  Privileges of tenure, like.”

 

Merlin yanked on his wrist cuffs again, trying to blast them apart with his magic.  Nothing happened, his magic fizzling out before it even reached his grasp.

 

“I told you, that won’t work.  Look at the designs.  The discomfort goes away, don’t worry.  Soon you won’t even notice they’re there!  They just updated them a few months ago to make them smaller.  Don’t you like mine?  I got them special.”

 

“Why are yours different?  Why am I attached to the bed and you’re not?”

 

“Because _I’m_ _special_!”  The girl giggled wildly.  “Look, see?”  She jumped out of bed and began spinning around the room.  “I don’t even have to have a camera.  The others have cameras, did you know?  But not in here!  Because I don’t need to be watched, I wouldn’t ever try to escape.”  She threw herself up and bounced onto Merlin’s bed, propping her chin on her hands.  “You must be special, too.  Otherwise they wouldn’t put you in here.  I never have to share a room.”

 

Merlin unconsciously attempted to edge back from the girl.  It was obvious she was mad.  “I’m not special at all.  How… how did I get here?”

 

“They carried you in?  You were asleep.  That’s good.  Sleep is good.  It will help you.  Not me, though.  Sleep is bad for me.  No sleep for Morgana.”  She leaned in close and whispered seriously, as if imparting a deep secret.  “Sleep makes the magic come.”

 

Then she was bounding away again.  “Does magic hurt you?  I like to use mine, but I don’t want to hurt you.  I can hurt people if I’m not careful, that’s why I’m here.  I hurt people.  They tried to lock the magic away so that I couldn’t but I can’t help it, it just comes and comes and comes, and I can’t stop it!  Will that hurt you?”

 

“I don’t– I don’t think so?  Depends on what you do?”

 

She was back in his face again, barely a breath away.  “I explode things with my mind.”

 

“Like this?”  He reached out one hand as much as he could towards the table, meaning to take it apart and put it together again.  But once again his magic fizzed.

 

“No no no!  Only I can do magic!  Because I don’t want to hurt anyone, not anyone ever again, so I stay here and I only do magic by myself.”

 

Suddenly a thought nudged unbidden at his brain.  “Morgana?  You said your name was Morgana?”

 

“Morgana Le Fay!  Always Le Fay, always always, mustn’t mustn’t tell!”

 

Le Fay.  Not du Bois.  She wasn’t the same.  But she couldn’t have been anyway, Arthur’s Morgana was dead, remember?

 

“What mustn’t you tell?”

 

“Not Le Fay.  Liars, cheaters, and thieves.  But mustn’t tell, Arthur mustn’t know.”

 

“Arthur?” his voice cracked.

 

“Little brother Arthur!  Poor, dear brother Arthur.  I hurt him, you know.  That’s why I have to stay here, so I don’t hurt him ever again.  Morgana loves Arthur.”

 

It couldn’t be.  Morgana was supposed to be dead.  Arthur had told him.  And Arthur may not have been entirely truthful about everything, but Merlin was positive that hadn’t been a lie.

 

“You were sick.  He wanted to help you.”

 

“Yes,” Morgana dropped, sitting sadly in the middle of the floor.  “But no one could help.  No one can save poor Morgana.”  She gazed up at him, smiling again.  “You would like Arthur.  He’s annoying and brave and blond and nice.  Uther said if I’m good Arthur might get to come see me.”  Back to the pout.  “But I’m not good at being good.”

 

“Arthur’s coming… _here?_ ” Merlin squeaked.  “ _Uther Pendragon’s_ coming here?”  This wasn’t happening.  It couldn’t possibly be happening.

 

“Daddy!  Daddy loves me.  He keeps me safe, which keeps Arthur safe.  I miss Arthur.”

 

“He misses you, too,” Merlin said absentmindedly.  Uther Pendragon was Arthur’s father.  Because things couldn’t get any worse.

 

“You know Arthur?” Morgana squealed.  “Does he talk about me?  Isn’t he just lovely?  I haven’t seen him in ages.  Uther said it was my birthday a while ago, which means it’s been… a long, long time.  What’s happened with Arthur?  Did you hurt him too?”

 

Merlin sighed.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I think I did.”  _And he hurt me right back._

 

“Then you must stay here, too.  We’ll keep the bad, bad magic away from Arthur.”

 

Arthur had said she died when they were kids.  Yet here was Morgana, in the possession of the government, for what must have been years.  Long enough to drive her mad at any rate.  “Morgana… what exactly happens in here?”

 

She cocked her head.  “I colour.  And Daddy comes to visit and I tell him about my dreams.  He tells me it’s alright to dream as long as I tell him about them, then he’ll make the bad stuff go away.  Then he gives me my medicine and usually fall asleep, even if I don’t want to.”

 

“Medicine?”

 

“To make the bad bad magic go away.  Daddy says it’s not perfect yet, and that’s why I still have the bad dreams, but he says so long as I take it I won’t hurt anyone.  That’s why I get to see Arthur!”

 

They were going to take away his magic?  Even more than they’d already done with the restraints?  How was that even possible?  Clearly it wasn’t entirely, since Morgana claimed only she could do it, but it had to have some kind of effect.  Was it the ‘medicine’ that had taken Morgana’s mind?

 

Merlin let Morgana continued babbling at him, even relenting and colouring with her when she brought over paper and crayons.  Morgana’s drawings were as childlike as her speech, though the subject matter was not.  She drew terrifying monsters, people drowning in flames.  A figure he clearly recognized as Arthur standing hand in hand with a figure that looked queasily like him.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“I always draw what I see in my dreams.  They have to get out of my head, you see.”

 

“You saw this?”  It had to be from before, an old vision of the time when they still… cared for each other.

 

“I did, I did!  All these were last night, do you like them?  This one is called ‘Freedom.,’ in which Arthur and Emrys led the people into the Golden Age.  I could never get Emrys right before, but now I can See it better now that you’re here.”  She beamed proudly.

 

More people calling him Emrys.  But, no, he didn’t want this!  Especially not if whatever he had to do had to do with him seeing Arthur again.  He could hardly handle the idea that he was some great and powerful saviour, let alone that Arthur would help him.  Not that Arthur would.  Not for him, and certainly not for magic.

 

Merlin still wasn’t ready when Uther finally arrived.  The man was just as terrifying in person as he had ever been on his mother’s TV.  Even the smile and hug he spared for Morgana when she threw herself at him with a jubilant cry of “Daddy!” didn’t soften him any in Merlin’s eyes.

 

“Emrys,” he said, almost cordially, but Merlin could hear the threat underneath.  “So we meet at last.  I have been looking forward to this.”

 

“Can’t say I’ve felt the same.”  Merlin wished he had a hand free so that he could slap himself.

 

“Oh, but my dear Morgana has been telling me all about you.  I particularly enjoy the parts where you help my son to become the greatest ruler this country has ever known.  I always knew he had it in him.  But how will you do it?  Will you come up with the way to eliminate sorcery forever?  Or perhaps something simpler: will your death be the crushing blow to your pathetic kind?

 

Merlin couldn’t answer.  He only knew that he would never do what Uther wished of him, no matter what any stupid prophecy said.  Besides, Freya said he was supposed to free magic, not destroy it.

 

“Daddy,” Morgana whined, drawing his attention away. “I want to see Arthur.  You promised I could see Arthur.  I’ve been really good, I promise!”

 

“Yes, darling.  You may see Arthur.  I’ll call him in tomorrow afternoon.  Would you like that?”

 

“Yey!”  Morgana twirled about.  “Arthur!”

 

Merlin drew closer to Uther despite his disgust against it.  He lowered his voice. “How are you planning on telling him that she’s not dead?”

 

If Uther was surprised at Merlin’s knowledge he didn’t show it.  His lips curled up in a smirk.  “Morgana will forget she even asked by morning.  As, likely, will you.”  He moved to pound on the door.  Two men in white coats entered, one a middle age man with a scar across his face, the other an older man with hair as white as his coat.  The latter made his way towards Merlin.  


“Here you are, my boy.  Your night time dose. I’ll be here to give you another in the morning.  It’s a bit strong the first time, I’m afraid.  After that, though you should only feel mildly sleepy, and a bit dazed.”

 

“Dazed enough I don’t notice I’m losing my mind like her?” Merlin snapped back.

 

Strangely the man just looked sad at that.  He actually nodded.  “Take heart.  It’s better not to know.  It hurts less this way.”

 

Merlin noted the cuffs around the man’s wrists as he bent over him.  They bore the same design as his restraint.  “Why are you doing this?  How can you do this to your own kind?”

 

“Because I could fight back.  I could.  And my revolt might delay the actions they wished me to take.  But it would only be a delay.  They would simply find someone else to do the job.  By continuing on, I can try to do the greatest good that I can.  Even in here, my boy, we do what we must to survive.  Whether that means being used as lab rats or… or ensuring that those lab rats suffer as little as possible.”

 

 

 

 

“Arthur!  Thank you for coming so quickly.  I have excellent news for you.”

 

Arthur could use some excellent news right now, but he couldn’t see it coming from his father.  He’d spent the entire last two nights tossing and turning trying to make sense of this whole predicament, until finally he gave up and decided there wasn’t any sense to be made.  When his father called him into the office, he more than half wanted to stay as far away as possible, sure that Uther only wanted to berate him for his failure.

 

“We have located Emrys and brought him in.  I’ve arranged for you to speak to him tomorrow.”

 

Arthur didn’t even care about Emrys or his nebulous grand future anymore.  His present was spiralling so fast that anything had to be better, but that didn’t mean it was so great.

 

“Thank you, sir.  I look forward to it.”

 

“I must warn you.  I believe the effects of… so much _evil_ being inside him have taken their toll.  It was no wonder we were able to capture him, and indeed, it’s a wonder it took so long.  Whoever was harbouring him did a marvellous job of concealing the madness within, but whatever method they used has worn off now.  You know I would never put you in any danger, of course, but you should know that the man is rather… _unstable_.  Prone to lies and mad ramblings.”

 

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from a _sorcerer_.” Arthur bowed his head and made to back out.  “If that will be all, sir?”

 

“Yes, of course.  I will send a car for you in the morning, once enough time has passed that his sedatives will have taken effect.  There is no point in taking chances.”

 

“Thank you, sir.”

 

Meeting with a madman wasn’t high up on the list of ways Arthur would prefer to spend his day doing, but there were plenty of things below that right now, so he decided to approach the visit as business-like as possible.  He would ask how this Emrys was going to help him and leave.  Surely his father couldn’t expect anything more, not when he was sedating the man before Arthur saw him.

 

Of course, that plan completely fell apart the moment he walked into the room.

 

Emrys sat slumped at the table, head resting on the surface.  But Arthur would have known the nape of that neck anywhere. “M-Merlin?”

 

Emrys sat up and turned to face his voice.  But it was Merlin who looked at him, past him rather, sunken eyes glazed.  He seemed to be struggling to stay upright.  But a tiny smile stretched across his face.  “Hello, Arthur.  Long time, no see.”  He giggled, and the sound sent shivers up Arthur’s spine.  “Do you get it?  Because I just saw you.  It hasn’t really been a long time.”  He giggled again.

 

Arthur found himself been drawn forward, collapsing in the chair across from him.  “Oh, Merlin, what have they done to you?”

 

“They’re _helping_ me, Arthur!  The doctor said, he said it would help it, and it did!  I didn’t believe him, but it’s _better_ now, Arthur!  It doesn’t hurt so much now.  See, I can look right at you and nothing!”  Merlin frowned.  “And I don’t feel so sad about Freya now.  Where is she, Arthur?  Are they helping her, too?”

 

“No, Freya’s still on the run.”  Arthur would have heard if she’d been caught too.  She was his responsibility; they would have _had_ to tell him.  “Merlin, what happened?  How did you end up here?”

 

“I was carried!” He answered proudly.  “Morgana said, she said that was what happened.  I like Morgana, she’s nice.  You never said she was nice.”

 

Arthur couldn’t do this.  What had happened to the young man he loved?  Had sorcery really taken him away so quickly?  But then why had there never been a hint of this before?  Will said Merlin was likely this from birth.  Surely twenty-three years would have more of an effect than three days.  Arthur had spent years chasing down sorcerers and not one had acted like this.

 

“You met Morgana?”  He should never have told him about her.  It wasn’t fair that she would be used to fuel his hallucinations.

 

“Oh yes.  She’s nice.  Did I say she was nice?  She says she misses you.  I miss you, too.  Why do I miss you, Arthur?  You’re right there?” Merlin seemed to be becoming more distressed as he rambled.  “She said she can’t see you because she’ll hurt you.  But I hurt you, too, didn’t I?  Why do I get to see you?  Is it because I can’t explode things with my mind?”

 

_“Gana, wake up!  Please, wake up!”_

_Morgana’s eyes fluttered open as she tossed and turned in her sleep, gold swirling around the irises.  Arthur gasped and backed up, banging into the armoire.  The noise startled Morgana awake and she shot up screaming.  The vase across the room shattered with her voice._

Merlin couldn’t know that.  He couldn’t.

 

“She doesn’t mean to!  She’s trying really hard to be good!  Uther said you could come see her, but he lied.  He told me I would forget that too, but he lied, I remember real good.  I remember lots of things.  But not everything.  Why can’t I remember everything, Arthur?”  He was crying, rocking back and forth in his chair.  Arthur was crying, too.  “Arthur, why do I feel so funny?  Morgana doesn’t feel funny, she just _is_ funny!  She tells me about you in her dreams, or when you were little, and I laugh.  But I shouldn’t.  This is bad.  This is a bad place.  Don’t let them hurt me anymore, Arthur!  I don’t want to take the medicine anymore!”  Merlin was shouting, scrabbling at him.  Arthur couldn’t back away.

 

A pair of men hurried in and grabbed hold of Merlin, inciting more screams and pleas for Arthur to make them stop.  Glass shattered somewhere nearby.  Finally one of them managed to slip a needle into his arm, and Merlin slumped limply into their arms.  The younger looking man placed him on a gurney and wheeled him out.

 

“I am very sorry about that, sir.  He’s not usually so worked up.”

 

“What did you give him?” Arthur croaked, staring after the space Merlin had just occupied.

 

“Just a mild sedative, sir.  Enough to allow him to sleep for a while.”

 

“What about the other stuff?  He said you were giving him medicine to make him not hurt.  To help him.”

 

“An acid,” he said bluntly.  “One which specifically targets the brain and eats it away.  The purpose being to burn away all areas which might harbour the blight of sorcery.”

 

  1.   They were slowly poisoning him.  Arthur felt his stomach revolt.  Magic or no, no one deserved that.  How was Merlin supposed to help him as Emrys if they destroyed him before he could do it?



 

“How long does he have?”

 

“Most patients last approximately six months.  However, due to his far superior capacity for magic, he has been subjected to four times as much as normal. Hence his rapid deterioration.  Though if treatment were stopped now there is a chance the damage may be reversed, I’m afraid the boy will not last long at this rate.”

 

The doctor looked sad about that, but so far as Arthur could see, he wasn’t doing anything to stop it, either.  No one was.  “Excuse me; I have to go speak to Mr Pendragon.”

 

Uther had said he would use his own methods to convince Emrys to help him.  But this… this was torture, plain and simple.  Arthur would rather end it now with a lethal dose than to watch Merlin suffer like this.  God, Merlin…  This was Arthur’s fault.  If he had been the kind of person Merlin could count on, he could have told him about the magic long ago.  No, if Merlin didn’t have to fear death, or worse forced insanity leading to death, he never would have hidden in the first place.

 

Arthur marched right up to Uther’s on-site office.  He knew his father would be there.  On a day like this there was no way he wasn’t.  He barged in without a knock.

 

“How dare you!”  He wasn’t sure who had yelled it, or if both had.

 

“How could you do this to him?” Arthur demanded.

 

“Arthur, I warned you he was unstable.  I’m sorry if things got out of hand.  I promise you, we will keep a more careful eye next time.”

 

“Next time?  How can there be a next time if you kill him first?”

 

“Dr Gaius told you about our treatment.  Don’t fear, we only accelerated the course for the moment to get him under control.  We will switched to pure sedation as soon as we can be sure he is no longer a danger.  Then you can do with him as you will.”

 

“What I _will_ , is to take him out of here this instant!  This… this is inhumane!”

 

Uther scoffed, unperturbed by Arthur’s anger.  “You say that is if these creatures are human.  They are _sorcerers_ , Arthur, don’t forget that.”

_“The instant you found out he had magic, you stopped seeing him as a person.”_

 

“No, they’re your scapegoats.  ‘The people need someone to blame,’ that’s what you told me.  But what exactly are we blaming them _for_?  Fine, I know my history.  Things got bad, droughts, famine, whatever.  But even with sorcerers still running about, all that’s gone now.  What is their crime now?  Why are we still punishing them?”

 

“Because without fear of punishment they will start everything again!”  Uther rose to his feet, face turning purple with anger.  “The people expect us to protect them from the evils of sorcery–”

 

“Only because you told them they need protecting from it in the first place!”

 

“You are trying my patience, son…”

 

“And what about Morgana?”

 

Uther’s complexion went from purple to puce.  “What _about_ Morgana?” he asked tightly.

 

“Me- Emrys said he spoke to her.  That she was here, too.”

 

“ _Emrys_ is insane.”

 

“Then how did he know about Morgana blowing up things in her room?  Or her nightmares?  But they weren’t nightmares, were they?”

 

_He’d always thought it fascinating how Morgana’s dreams would always come true.  Morgana found it terrifying and swore him to secrecy._

“She’s a seer.  She’s the seer you know won’t lie to you.  Does she even know what you’re doing to her?  What lies have you poured into her after all these years?”

 

Uther took deep breaths, clearly trying to regain control of the situation.  “Yes, Morgana is alive.  We didn’t know as much back then; there was nothing we could do.  The curse overcame her before we could save her.  She’s alive, but she’s lost, Arthur.”

 

“I want to see her.”

 

“I don’t think that’s for the be–”

                                                                 

“Emrys said she wanted to see me.  If you don’t take me, I’ll force someone else to take me.  And if they won’t, I’ll go to the papers, to your opponents, expose everything that’s happening here.  Even rabid animals are treated better than this.”

 

“Fine,” Uther hissed.  “But do not blame _me_ for your inability to handle the truth.”

 

Uther led him through the halls to a locked room.  “Let me speak to her first.  Prepare her.”

 

“No, I don’t think I will.”

 

“She’s not the girl you once knew anymore, Arthur.”

 

“And whose fault is that?”

 

With a sigh he swung the door open and Arthur stalked inside.  Merlin lay unconscious still on his bed, hands and feet chained down.  Crayon drawings hung taped to the wall around him.  They were all of the two of them, holding hands, standing triumphant over a crowd of people.  His heart twisted to see one that depicted their picnic in the park together, the first time he had kissed him.

 

And now he feared it would be his last.

 

“Arthur?”

 

The timid voice drew his attention away from Merlin to the other side of the room.  There sat the thirteen-year-old girl from his memories.  Only she was all grown-up now, turned into a woman in the blink of an eye.

 

“Hi, Gana.”

 

Morgana threw herself at him.  “I missed you so much!  I swear, I won’t hurt you anymore, okay, baby brother?  I’m better now.  I won’t explode things, I promise.  Daddy helped me get better.”

 

  1.   Only years of steady lies could ever convince someone that this was better.  Morgana had the same stilted childlike speech as Merlin.  She too had been poisoned, and by the man she consider like a father to her.  No longer was she the strong girl he remembered.  He had failed to protect her far more greatly than he had ever imagined.



 

“Morgana, I’m going to take you away from here, take you home; would you like that?”  He ignored Uther’s sputtered warning.

 

Morgana pulled away.  She looked confused, but not unhappy.  “Emrys, too?”

 

“Him too.”

 

“He’s been waiting for you,” she whispered in his ear.  “The sorcerer and the king, together forever, setting the world free.”

 

“How about we set you free first, okay?  We’ll worry about the world tomorrow.”

 

Arthur knew this wasn’t over.  Even if he managed to wrest Merlin and Morgana from his father’s claws now, they might never be the same again.  The doctor had said Merlin might recover, but Morgana had been here for over a decade.  There were others here, too, likely, in just as dire straits.  None of them could simply be let loose on society again without a careful eye.

 

“But Emrys worries about it.  I hear him.  In my dreams he’s always worrying.”

 

“That’s because Merlin worries too much.  There’s not going to be a reason to worry anymore, I promise.”

 

“Arthur, you can’t do this.”  Uther stood in the doorway, blocking his path.

 

“No, Father, I’m the only one who can.  And I should have a long time ago.  You’re right; I have a great future ahead of me.  But if you want to be a part of it, you will get out of my way.”

 

“You cannot take them from here,” he insisted.  “It isn’t safe.”

 

“Because it’s _so_ _safe_ for them here.”

 

Morgana had retreated whimpering from the fight, disliking the raised voices, not understanding what they were fighting about.  She cowered by Merlin’s bed, shaking him in hopes he would wake up.

 

“Arthur.  I am your father and your superior.  You will obey me.”

 

“That was before I found out you weren’t worth obeying.”

 

“I will not tolerate this much longer, Arthur.  _Back down_.”

 

“No.”

 

“Then I will simply have to have them moved somewhere you cannot find them.  I will not let you destroy everything we have worked for.  That boy is to be the catalyst to your rise to power.  What do you think he’ll do when you remove him from the elements that have been keeping him docile?  He will seek revenge, and who do you think it will be against?  Do you think he’ll thank you for this?  You are my son, a leader in the field of hunting down creatures like him to bring here.  You condoned this for years, Arthur.  He won’t forget that.”

 

Arthur knew his father spoke the truth.  Neither Merlin nor Morgana had any reason to care for him.  But he couldn’t just leave them here.

 

“I don’t care.  I don’t deserve his forgiveness anyway.  But he won’t even have the chance to decide that for himself if I don’t get him out of here.”

 

“So be it.  Guards!”  Half a dozen men and a doctor with a syringe flooded into the room.  Morgana started wailing, confused and terrified.  “Your sister wishes to see you, Arthur. Don’t make me take you away again.”

 

The guards drew closer, and Arthur knew if he was injected with the needle he would drop as easily as Merlin had.  He backed away, looking for some kind of weak point so he could escape.  Then he would get the team together, and they would come back, before Uther could have Morgana and Merlin transferred.

 

“Emrys, please wake up.  Please, please wake up.  Look, I took your cuffs off, now you can do magic just like me!  You like doing magic!”

Arthur gaped, nearly forgetting his central problem. Uther looked just as shocked.  “Morgana, how did you do that?”  It had been over ten years of her mind being eaten away.  She couldn’t possibly have anything left.

 

“I… I could always do that.  I’m sorry, ple– please don’t be mad at me!”  She cried harder.  A light sparked above them.  Images of her room catching on fire at thirteen flashed across his mind.

 

“Morgana, calm down.  It’s okay, no one’s mad.”  _Except Uther and the people coming to knock me out.  They might be a tad bit upset._   The men were shifting trajectory now, clearly wanting to take out the bigger threat.

 

“No!”  He lunged at the nearest one and was lost in a melee of fists and kicks.  Then everything froze as a scream rang through the air and the earth started to tremble.

 

 

 

 

 

The day Uther Pendragon fell from power, the people fell silent in remembrance.  His supporters slunk away in shame.

 

In the end, Arthur didn’t need to expose his father.  Merlin did that for him.  With his screams Merlin shook the building, crumbling walls and damaging supports.  There had been no hiding anything then, with emergency crews of ordinary people rushing to their aid before anyone could stop them.  The discovery of the hundreds of people within the walls of the facility had led to a worldwide scandal, and Uther was forced to step down or be thrown in jail.

 

Two months later Arthur was making his daily visit to the care home he’d been forced to place Morgana and Merlin in.  He’d fought the decision at first, want to keep them close, as if his sheer proximity could keep them from harm.  Because it had worked so well the first time.  In the end it was Gwen who convinced him that residence care was the best option.  Most of the other sorcerers, if they hadn’t had a family to come claim them, had ended up with the same fate, to the point where a special place had been dedicated just to their treatment.

 

Some, like Morgana, would never be well.  She had been tormented for too long for her mind to fully recover.  But she was doing better, now that she was no longer being sedated on a daily basis.  That was, unless she wished it to combat the nightmares that still plagued her.  Morgana would often ask for Uther, confused that he couldn’t come visit.  Arthur just told her he had gone away for a while, and they didn’t know when he’d be back.  He refused to lie to her like his father had to him and tell her he was dead.

 

And it was the truth, really.  Uther had run off to who-cared-where to escape the vengeance of his former oppressed.

 

Because Uther had been right about one thing.  Those who still had or had regained their awareness were angry.  Arthur and his team as well as many of the other former members of the NAAMC had had to lay low or go into hiding entirely, much like the sorcerers had once done.  Arthur thought it was fitting punishment.

 

Except that it made it difficult to make his visits, which were more like day-long stays when he could manage it.  The nurses had to sneak him in and out, sometimes sending him away entirely.  Those were the worst days.

 

Any time lost was a time that Merlin might start to think Arthur was worthy of that anger, too.  Which he was, and while he never outright tried to convince him otherwise, he could only hope that his actions now spoke louder than his actions before.

 

Merlin was one of the ones who was getting better.  Slowly but surely.  His earthquake antics had laid him out for a week, a week during which Arthur had been terrified he wouldn’t wake up.  But he had, and bit by bit he was recovering what had been taken.

 

He still had bad days.  On those days he would be easily frustrated, prone to lashing out with fist or magic.  Arthur wondered if it was a coincidence that those days seemed to get more frequent the better he got.

 

The doctors had hopes that when Merlin recovered fully these outbursts would stop, but Arthur knew better.  It wasn’t about the drugs, not entirely.  It was about the betrayal, the lifetime of brainwashing he had gone through.

 

Every time Merlin accidently used his magic in front of people, he went from angry to frightened, as if expecting a scolding like Morgana had when she took off his restraints back at the facility.  Even when his mother came and was on the receiving end of a blowout, it still took him ten minutes to allow anyone near him again.  No matter how many times Arthur told him he wouldn’t be punished, Merlin didn’t seem to believe him.

 

_“It’s not you who needs to accept him,” Will snapped when Arthur expressed his concerns.  “I’ve accepted him his entire life, so did his mum, so did Freya.  He’s been surrounded by accepting people.  But he’s also been surrounded by the people like you who tell him he’s a monster for what he can do and should be put down like an animal.  And you tell a person that enough times, on some level they’re going to believe it.  He needs to learn to accept himself.”_

So Arthur kept doing what he could, just being there.

 

And Merlin might no longer let him hold his hand or speak to him or sometimes even come near him, but Arthur was determined to stay in the hopes that one day, Merlin would.

 

 


End file.
